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THE 



ALPS, SWITZERLAND, 



THE NORTH OF ITALY: 



Uiitjl Mnmmn (fngrattings: 



EEV. CHARLES WILLIAMS. 




NEW YORK: 
PUBLISHED BY ALEXANDER MONTGOMERY, 17, SPRUCE-STREET. 



1854. 



By Transfer 

NOV 31 IS. 









s'' 



' El^GEIVEB, ^ y^ 

DEC 161302 



i«H/NCTC-. ^ 




PREK:ACE. 



To become intelligently acquainted with the physical phenomena of Switzerland 
and- Italy; — the spots distinguished for their historical interest — the most 
remarkable men who have figured on them — and the arts, customs, and general 
condition of their people — requires no ordinary extent of travel, a careful and 
sometimes repeated observation of extraordinary object*, which demand fami- 
liarity for their just appreciation, and a solicitous application to various sources 
of knoAvledge, in converse alike with the living and the dead. 

To aid such acquisitions, in the prospect of foreign travel thi-ough a most 
interesting part of the globe, this volume has beeir*prepared. It Avill be found, 
in addition to its historical details, greatly enriched by the accounts of a large 
number of visitors, whose pens have faithfully and graphically recorded what 
they have actually seen,^and the thoughts or emotions to which observation 
gave rise ; a result which could not be secured by any solitary traveller. 

And then, though facilities for travel are absolutely unprecedented, and the 
thirst to render them available was never so intense, the number of intelligent 
persons is still large^w^om cii'cumstances compel to remain at home. They 
can only folkw "their sons and daughters, and other endeared relatives, by the 
aid of imagination ; the materials of whose pictures such works as the present 
aim to supply ; while this volume may serve also as a memorial of travels 
always remembered with pleasure and gratitude. 

The numerous engravings which are interspersed through the work, will 
add greatly, it is believed, to its interest and value. 



NOV 21 is; 






u o. Fab. UB. 



C'^ REG3IVSD, ^ y- 




(( DEC 16 1302 

o 




PREE:ACE. 



To become intelligently acquainted with the physical phenomena of Switzerland 
and- Italy; — -the spots distinguished for their historical interest — the most 
remarkable men who have figured on them — and the arts, customs, and general 
condition of then- people — requires no ordinary extent of travel, a careful and 
sometimes repeated observation of extraordinary objecte, which demand fami- 
liarity for their just appreciation, and a solicitous application to various sources 
of knowledge, in converse alike with the living and the dead. 

To aid such acquisitions, in the prospect of foreign travel thi-ough a most 
interesting part of the globe, this volume has been^prepared. It will be found, 
in addition to its historical details, greatly enriched by the accounts of a large 
number of visitors, whose pens have faithfully and graphically recorded Avhat 
they have actually seen,^and the thoughts or emotions to which observation 
gave rise ; a result which could not be secured by any solitary traveller. 

And then, though facilities for travel are absolutely unprecedented, and the 
thii'st to render them available was never so intense, the number of intelligent 
persons is still largg^5vfibm cii'cumstances compel to remain at home. Thej^ 
can only foiLow their sons and daughters, and other endeared relatives, by the 
aid of imagination ; the materials of whose pictures such works as the present 
aim to supply ; while this volume may serve also as a memorial of travels 
always remembered with pleasure and gratitude. 

The numerous engravings which are interspersed through the work, will 
add greatly, it is believed, to its interest and value. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER PAGE 

Directions for Travellers . . . . . . . , . . vii 

I.— Moiuitaiu Ranges— Formation of the Clouds— The Desert changed— The Snow-line— 

Switzerland— The Route taken to the North of Italy . . . . . . 1 

II. — Alx)uie Mountains and Valleys — Snow Fields— Morning in the Alps — EYoning in 
the Alps — Winter in the Alps— Glaciers — Motion of the Glaciers — Moraines—^ 
Avalanches — The People of Switzerland . . . . . . . . 4 

III. — The Jura Moimtams — Crossed to St. Cergues — ^Nyon — First Sight of the Lake of 
Geneva — The City — Its Edifices — Island of Rousseau — Historical Associations of 
Geneva— Its Eminent Persons .. .. .. .. ..16 

IV. — Lake Leman — A Voyage on it — Lausanne — Vevay — Festival of the Vine-dressers — 
The Castle of Chillon, and its Prisoners — VUleneuve — First Sight of Mont Blanc — 
Lake Leman in a Calm and in a Storm — Port du Sex and Bovaret — MeUlerie — ■ 
Bons — Pas des Orraonds — Boltigen- — Freyburg — ^Neuchatel — Lake of Bienne . . 24 

V. — Route from Geneva to Chamouni — Bonneville — Cluses — Grotto of Balme — Nant 
d'Arpenas — St. Martin — St. Gervais — Col de Bonhomme — Nant Noir— Servoz — 
Mont Buet — Another Route — Col d'Auterne — The Valley of Chamouni . . 39 

VI. — Mont Blanc — The First Ascent of the Mountain — Subsequent Ascents — The Coiu-sc 

taken, and the Peril encountered in the Ascent and Descent . . . . 64 

VII. — Route to Martigny — The Tete Noire — Overflow of the Dransc . . . . 95 

VIIL— The Val d'Aosta— Magnificent View of Mont Blanc- Ascent of the Col dc la Seiguc . . 101 

IX.— The Ascent of the Col du Geant— St. Didier— Pass of the Little St. Bernard- Scene 

from the Belvidere .. .. .. .. .. .. 117 

X. — Route from Martigny to the Hospice of the Great St. Bernard — Its Visitants and 
Monks — Dogs of the Hospice — the Morgue. Switzerland a Country of singular 
Beauty and Diversity — =Ascents of Mountains — Phenomena of the Glaciers 124, 144 

XL — Animals of the Alpine Regions — the Chamois, the Marmot, the Lynx, and the Goat — > 

The Eagle — The Lammergeyer . . . . . . . . . . 160 

XII.— The VaUey of the Inn, of the Rhine, and of the Rhone— The Valais and its People— 

ThcPassoftheSimplon .. .. .. .. ..173 

XIII.— A AVinter Adventure in the Simplon Pass .. .. .. ..193 

XIV.— The ViUage of Leuk— The Gorge of the Dala— The Baths of Leuk— The Pass of the 

Gemmi .. .. .. .. • .. .. ..199 

XV. — Advice to Travellers in Switzerland — The Forests of the Alps — Slides for the 
Transportation of Timber — The Wood-cutters — Effects on CKmate of Removing 
Trees . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 208 



CHAPTEP. TAUE 

XVI. — Unterseen — luteiiaohen — Adventure on the Harderberg— Dr. Guggenbuhl, and his 

Institution at Abendberg . . . . , . . . . . 238 

XVII.— Cascade of Giessbach— The Valley of Lautcrbrumien— The Staubbach— The Jungfrau 251 

XVIII.— The Valley of Grindehvald— Its Glaciers— The Faulhorn- Passage of the Strahleck 269 

XIX. — Valley of Oberhasli — Meyi-ingen- The Pastures of the Alps— Flas-gro\ving— Amuse- 
ments of the Peasantiy . . . . . . . . . . 277 

XX. — The Pass of the Brunig— The Ascent of the Grimsel— Its Hospice . . . . 296 

XXL— A Day at the « Hotel des Neuchatelois " .. .. .. . . .306 

XXII. — M. Agassiz and his Companions — Pass of the Strahleck — Ascent of the Abschwung . . 311 

XXIIL— The Ascent of the AVetterhorn .. .. .. .. ..319 

XXIV. — Ancient Helvetia^Remarkablo Remains of Aventicum — The Feudal System — The 

Battle of Sempach— William Tdl . . . . . . . . . . 326 

XXV. — Ascents of the Righi — The Lake and Town of Zug — The Canton of Schwitz . . 358 

XXVI.— The Coimcil of Constance— Varied History of the Swiss— The Reformation . . 367 

XXVII.— The Canton of Berne- Its Capital . . . . . . . . . . 383 

XXVIIL— Bale- Soleure— Aarau— The Town and Falls of Schafifhauscn . . . . 398 

XXIX.— Constance and its Lake— St. Gall— Appcnzell .. .. .. ..411 

XXX.— The City of Zurich .. .. .. .. .. ..431 

XXXL— The Lake of Wallenstadt— Glarus— Klonthal— The Baths of Pfeflers— ThcVia Mala 410 

XXXIL— The Canton of the Grisons-Coirc-Maycnfeld— Country of Davos— Col Fluclla . . 460 

XXXIIL— The Pass of the Splugen- The Pass of Bernhardina— The Valley of Misocco . . 471 

XXXIV.— The Julicr Pass— The Inn— The Engadino-Tlie Bernina Pass . . . . 481 

XXXV. — Condition of the People — Arts and Manufactures — Fine Arts — Institutions— Religion 495 

XXXVL— The Stelvio Pass— The Ortlcr Spitz-The Valteline .. .. ' ..514 



XXXVIL— The City of Trent— Roveredo— The Council of Trent 
XXXVIIL— The City of the Sea 
XXXIX. — Lombardj'-Vcrona— Padua— Mantua-Cremona 

XL. — The Lakes of Lombardy : Garda, Como, Maggiorc, and Lugano 
XLL— The City of Milan 
XLII. — Turin — jNIont Ccnis — Monte Rosa — Farewell to the Alps 
XLIIL— Alessandi-ia— The Field of Marengo— Genoa— Riviera-Nice 



527 
532 
555 
582 
595 
607 
615 



THE ALPS, 

i 

SWITZERLAND, SAVOY, PIEDMONT, AND LOMBAEDY. 



CHAPTErv I. 



MOUNTAHS-EAiVGES I-ORMATION OF THE CmUOS THE WESEKT CIIAXGED THE S>-OW-LINE 

SA^TZERLAXD THE KOUTE lAKEN TO THE NORTH OF IT.U^Y. 

The impression produced by the beauty, grandeui-, or sublimity of a chain of lofty moun- 
taias, is ordinarily unaccompanied by a sense oftheir vast importance in the entire economy 
of the globe. Contemplated, indeed, when these eminences are attired in their beautiful 
verdure, when they appear dotted with human habitations, or when flocks graze on 
their sides, the idea of their utility may be apparent, especially when the marks of culture 
are scattered over their surface. But when they lift theii- bare summits to the cold, 
clear sky ; when they are wrapped in a mantle of drifted snow ; when a dense mist 
renders them invisible ; when their scanty clothing is a poor and stimted herbage ; and 
when there is no trace either of the feet of animals, or the traversings and toils of human 
kind ; — then the only purpose of these immense elevations, as they tower aloft from the 
rich and fertile plain, appears to be to add a charm of loveliness or majesty to the scene, 
as the light fades on. their azure coverings, as they are radiant in the sunshine, or they 
are thickly veiled by the storm. 

And yet, " God is on the mountains," scattering there and aroimd, with all his 
mimificence, his rich and precious gifts on the children of men. Had they not existed, 
and had the earth's surface presented only one mass of granite or lava, the limestone, 
clay, and sandstone, now so admirably intermixed to secure the beauty and fertility of 
the globe, and the welfare of man as its inhabitant, would have found no place ; while 
the inestimable treasures of minerals, salt, and coal, woidd have been wholly inaccessible, 
and of all these essential elements of industry and civilisation we should have been 
utterly destitute. 

The mountain-ranges — an immense and exhaustless depository of instruments for 
man's advancement in the scale of being — are as certainly bulwarks of defence to the 
outspreading valley and the plain. For when his lot is cast on the face of coimtries 
near the poles, they form a grateful screen from blasts of fatal bitterness ; and when 



Z THE AU'Sl. 

lie is a dweller in tropical climes, they mitigate the wasting and scorching intensity 
of the solar beams. 

It should also be distinctly remembered, that to the existence of momitains we OAve 
the springs and the rivers indispensable to all life ; and, to a great extent, the rains which 
supply their loss and swell their vohmie. The intelligent observer, while traversing a 
• mountainous coimtry, may readily observe the operation of some eminence, not only in 
collecting together the clouds of heaven, biit ia forming them from an atmosphere which 
would appear to be destitute of moistm-e. Aaid the feelings of which he is conscious 
may be shared, in some degree, by all who tarry at home, and will attentively consider 
this remarkable process. 

A transparent current of air begins to deposit vapour as soon as it approaches the 
smnmit of the moimtain, and increases till the whole becomes involved in a cloud as 
low do-nm as the relative specific gravities of this vapour and the air will admit. Often 
will such a cloud appear to be fixed, though a strong wind is blowing, but, in this 
instance, the A-apour Avhich had been precipitated on the windward, is dissolved on the 
leeward side. The more common result, however, is a progressive addition to the 
cloudy atmosphere, until the Avhole sky is obscured, and there is a plentiful fall of 
rain. And when, also, the high land simply attracts the clouds Avhich may be sailing 
through the air, its influence becomes frequently a source of rain, not merely on itself 
alone, but on all the coimtry around. 

The transformation would, indeed, be immense, could elevations now arise, among 
some extensiA^e plains on the surface of the globe. x\s the great, arid, and almost 
barren deserts of Asia and Africa require onlj' moimtains to render them as luxmiantly 
productiA'-e as are the equally extensiA^e plains of South ibnerica, so coidd another Mont 
Blanc, or Chimborazo arise amidst the Great Sahara, that .immense and desolate tract 
Avordd immediately acquire the elements of fertility. Por that stony countrj^, with here 
and there some cultivable land, yet literally surrounded bj^ a sea of sand, AA'hich, being 
agitated by strong easterly AA'inds, appears like the surface of the ocean, and often rises 
into the air in the form of sand-spouts, requires only Avater to efiectuate so wondrous a 
transformation. As the rock of the Great Sahara is that of Cheshire, and the soil 
essentially the same, so, could Avater be distilled on the vast wilderness, by some " cloud- 
capt" eminence, plants Avould spring up, and a succession of vegetation ^vould make it to 
rival that cormty of Britain, so long remarkable for the richness of its verdure and the 
luxuriance of its pastures. In like manner, Avere the fiat of the Almighty to give rise 
to momitains, the sands of Africa Avoiild equal in friiitfulness, the declivities of the Atlas 
range ; the salt plains of the Caspian woidd be covered with the Avealth of Caucasus ; 
and CA'ery desert on the face of the earth become an appropriate and desirable home for 
man. 

It is worthy of remark, that while the atmosphere is in itself neither warm nor cold, it 
has the quality of becoming heated by the sim's rays. The degree of heat thus imparted 
depends partly on the length of time diu'ing Avhich the solar beams act iipon the air, 
and partly on the degree of its density ; so that the heat is less where the air is rarer, 
and greater Avhere it is denser. Places Avhich are only raised a little above the IcA'el of 
the sea, are much warmer than those Avhich stand some thousand feel higher than its 
sm-face. 

As, then, the mountain-range is ascended, places are reached, at length, Avhere the 
atmosphere is so rare that the Ioav degree of heat imparted to it forbids water to 
continue in its fluid state, and it is therefore converted into ice, or, if it be in the form 
of A'apoiir, into snoAv. The stratum of air where anj^ such change occurs is called the 
snoAV-line, and this is regarded as a natural boundary. It might be supposed that the 
snow-line Avould be found at precisely the same distance from the earth's surface at every 



THK KOU'JMi TAKEX. 3 

part of the globe ; but considerable difi'ereiices are observable in this respect. Thus, on 
the Alps the snovv'-line is from 9,300 to 9,600 feet above the sea-level, whereas on the 
Himalaya it is 16,000 feet. In the space, however, between the snow-line and the 
surface of the earth, organic operations take place. Here it is that the vegetable tribes 
germinate and grow, that animals find their food, and man discovers what is reqiiisite 
for his subsistence ; and thoiigh it is too cold for him to settle permanently near the 
snow-line, yet, in the season of summer, he visits its -sdcinity as a grazing-place for his 
herds. 

The phenomena of mountain-ranges are observable in many parts of the globe ; but 
to enjoy such scenery in its perfection, there must be a yielding to the glowing words of 
the poet ; — 

'■ Tlie S^vitzer's laiid ! vdicrc grandeuv is oncainpod 
Iiiiprcguably in moiuitaiu-tents of snow, 
llcalms that bj' human foot-piiuts ne'er Y.'cre stamped) 
Where the eagle wheels, and glacial ramparts gdcv. 
Seek, Nature's worshipper, these landscapes ! Go, 
Where all her iiercest, fairest charms are joined ; 
Go to the land where Tell drew freedom's bow ; 
And in the patriot's country thou shalt find 
, A semblance 'twixt the scene and his immortal mind." * 

But even to this land, glorious as it is, v,-e do not intend that oiu' footprints should now 
be restricted. The neighbouring regions of Savoy and Piedmont, with their towering- 
elevations, are to form part of the route which we design to pursue. J^or shall we termi- 
nate om' wanderings, imtil we have tracked the northern part of Italy, of which we have 
heard so much in history and in song, and gathered, whether ascending or descending 
lofty elevations, or traversing the valley or the plain, much, we trust, to enlighten and 
delight the mind. 

* Campbell. 



b2 



CHAPTER II. 

ALVINE MOUNTAINS AND \' ALLEYS SNOW FIELDS MORNING IN THE ALPS EVENING IN THE 

ALPS M'INTER IN THE ALPS GLACIERS MOTION 01' THE GLACIERS MORAINES — • 

AVALANCHES THE PEOPLE OF SWITZERLAND. 

Europe is traversed in its entire breadth by an almost continuous chain of mountains, 
bearing different names in different parts. Thus, between France and Spain are the 
Pyrenees, and in Turkey are the Balkhan mountains. The loftiest and most extensive 
portion of the great continental backbone is the well-known chain of the Alps lying 
between Germany and Italy, and covei'ing almost the whole of Switzerland with their 
ramifications. 

The Alps extend from the banks of the Rhone in France on the west, to the rivers 
Verbas and Narenta on the east ; of which the former falls into the Save, a confluent of 
the Danube, and the latter into the Adriatic. They form a vast semi-circular bidwark, 
which encompasses on the north Italy and the Adriatic Sea. 

They are divided into the Mont Blanc range, the Pennine, and the Lepontine Alps. 
There is also a great lateral chain — the Bernese Alps — many of the summits of which 
almost equal those of the parent range in height ; and the Rhoetian Alps, which, extending 
into Austria, may be considered as four minor lateral chains. The principal transverse 
chains are the Appennines, which traverse Italy in its entire length, and the Jura 
mountains, divided into a series of parallel ranges essentially different in appearance 
and formation from their neighbours. It is remarkable that in most of the European 
moimtains the slopes are more rapid on one side than on the other ; thus in the Jura 
they are more rapid on the Swiss side, and in the Alps Proper on the Italian side. 

One peculiarity of the Alpine chains is especially observable. Unlike those of 
America and Asia, they do not swell into vast and continuous table-lands, but are 
separated by deep valleys and narrow plains, which form the basin of large rivers, or 
tlie bed of extensive lakes. Hence arises a singular variety of climate and aspect ; for 
while the vallej^s beneath are scorched by the intensest rays of the sun, perpetual winter 
reigns in the heights above, and the vegetation of the arctic circle passes into the snows of 
the polar regions. 

According to Simond, some idea may be formed of the Helvetic geography by 
comparing the country to a large town, of which the valleys are the streets, and the 
moimtains groups of contiguous houses. The task is, however, one of no little difficulty, 
as, though there is a considerable extent of flat groimd in the cantons of Friburg, Berne, 
and Solothurn, the far larger portion of Switzerland consists of mountains, comprising 
many of the highest summits of the Alps. It has also a far greater number of lakes 
than any other tract of country of equal extent in Europe, excepting, perhaps, the grand 
duchy of Finland ; all of them are navigable, and remarkable for the depth and purity 
of their waters, as well as for their great variety of fish. 



MOUNTAINS OF THE ALPS. 

The snow of Alpine regions differs greatly from that of the lower countries where the 
snow falls in flakes, as it resembles in size and form extremely small shot, and cannot be 
pressed together so as to make a snow-ball. The German peasants in Switzerland 
distinguish the mountain-snow as firn, while the ordinary kind is called mow. The 
region of the forests extends in the Alps from 3,000 to 6,000 feet above the sea-level, and 
here snow in winter, like raiii in summer, is very abundant. Where the trees disappear, 
and are replaced by bushes, the quantity of rain decreases gradually, and goes on dimi- 
nishing in approaching the snow-line. Above this line only snow falls. 




SXOW-n.AI) EMINENCES. 



Some hundreds of rocky masses of the Alps rise above the snow-line ; and these are 
sometimes so closely connected as to constitute a snowy mass, covering an immense 
extent of country. In the Alps of Berne, between the upper coiirses of the rivers Rhone 
and Aar, a tract of comitry of about six hundi-ed square miles, or twice the area of the 
county of Middlesex, is one sheet of snow, excepting only three or four narrow valleys, 
which run into the mass, and are so depressed as to be free from snow throughout several 
successive months. The valleys cut in these mountains communicate with one another 
by foot-paths, which run for several miles over the snow, biit are only practicable for 
pedestrians, and that during a few weeks of the year. 



6 ^ THE ALPS. 

As tlie snow-fields of the Alps rai-ely present level spaces on their tops, and as the 
snow is there lodged in declivities, which are frequently broken by short, but steep 
ascents and descents, the effect on the scenery is very great. The variety it ordinarily 
displays becomes actually majestic and impressive, from the number of rocky masses 
with which, in the forms of needles, steeples, ruined castles, and narrow ridges, the entire 
siu'face is overspread. As, too, these rocks usually rise perpendicularly, or nearly so, and 
as their steep sides will not allow snow to lodge on them, their dark colour contrasts 
most strildngly with the whiteness of the snow, and the snow-fields add, therefore, a 
peculiar charm to Alpine scenery. 

Wordsworth thus depicts an Alpine scene, with a master-hand : — 

" 'Tis morn : with gold the verdant mountain glows, 
More liigh, the snowj' peaks with hues of rose. 
Far stretched beneath the many-tinted hiUs 

A mighty waste of mist the valleys iills, — ' '"[", 

A solemn sea ! whose vales and mountains round J "^ 

Stand motionless, to awful silence bound — ' p- ' 

A gailjjh of gloomy blue, that opens wide, ' ) 

And bottomless, divides the mid-way tide. ' 

Like leaning masts of stranded ships appear 
The pines, that near the coasts their summits rear. 
Of cabins, woods, and lawns, a pleasant shore 
Bounds calm arid clear the chaos still and hour. 
Loud tlirough that midway gulf, ascending, sound 
Unnumbered streams witli hollo-,\- roar profound. 
]\Iount through the nearer mist the cliant of birds, 
And talking voices, and the lov,- of herds, 
The bark of dogs, the (hoA\'sy tinkling bell, 
And wild-wood mountain lutes of saddest swell." 

Not so is it when evening comes on ; then the quiet and the repose are perfect. There 
is no stir among the coitagors ; thej' seeni already i" lun-o sunk into rest. The solitary 
toU of some chuvoh bell is often tlie only sound tliul inwls tliu eai-. Still, perhaps, the 
tourist passes onwards ; then the valleys open ; at ahuu^t e-\ eiy t urn of the road appear 
new combinations of .scenery, new outletn among tlie mountains ; yet the road is perfectly 
level, and the heights form the side scene, and a beautifid one indeed. " I was charmed," 
says an elegant writer,* " Ijy l)bse^^'iug• tlu' oii'eet of the clouds that floated around them, 
or rested on their summits, as the day dwn\- nearer and nearer towards its close. Some- 
times these veils of vapour dropped upon and -\\-liollj' concealed them from our sight ; 
then thejr shifted, rose gradually, and passed on, alternately discovering or concealing 
the sides and stmmiits of the motuitauis, or now partially disclosing some beautiful valley, 
enriched ^\ith woods that appear of the deepest piu'ple against a sky of liquid gold. 
Now and then might be seen some light spot of verdvu-e that might not unaptty be 
compared to an emerald set in the diadem of the mountain's brow. Indeed, never till 
I travelled in Switzerland, did I see effects in nature equal in lustre, and in the 
depth and richness of their colouring, the jewels and precious stones of the earth. 
But not to jewels alone might the glories of such a sunset as this be compared. The 
clouds shifted so continually, that there was no end to the fancifid eifects they produced 
in combination with the deepening colours and the glittering rays of the last beam of 
the svm. Sometimes the A'apoiu- was so light, that it served only to produce that optic 
illusion of magnifjdng objects without wholly obscuring them : when seen through such 
a medimn, the rocks may now and then assiime a phantom-like form ; " so that it is easy 
to conceive how Avild legends arise. 



Mrs. B) 



ay. 



•^VINTER IN THE ALPS. 7 

When, however, llie mist and storm have been on the mountains, the sublimity which 
Wordsworth has exquisitelj- described, arrays an Alpine scene at tlie sotting of thei sun : — • 

" 'Tis storm : aud liid iii mist from liour to Iiovd', 
All day the floods a deepening murmur pour. 
The sky is veiled, and every cheerful sight, 
Dark is the region as with coming night. 
But what a sudden hm'st of overpowering light ! 
Triumphant on the bosom of the storm 
Glances the fii-e-clad eagle's wheeling form. 
Eastward, in long perspective glittering, shine 
The wood-cro^vned cliffs that o'er the lake recline. 
Wide o'er the Alps a hundred streams unfold, 
At once to pillars turned, that flame with gold. 
Beliind his sail the peasant tries to shun 
The west, that burns like one dilated sun, 
"\'iTiere in a mighty crucible expire 
The mountains, glowing- hot, Hke coals of fire ! '" 

To allude to onl}' one other change, — that Avhich occurs during the reign of hoary- 
headed Aviuter, it is diihcirlt to realise. As the mountain -ranges are but one mass of 
whiteness, the eye can no longer distinguish the loftiest peaks, or measure their respective 
distances. The lakes which, imder the brilliant beams of a su mm er's smi, reflected all 
the colours of the rainbow, are now dark and sombre, their ebon-like surface gloomingly 
conti'asting "^"ith the sno"wy borders which sui'round them. The cascades, which before 
sparkled so merrily in the solar rays, leaping buoyantly, or dashing violently, from crag 
to crag, with so loud a roar, are now pent up in silent sliunberings, in huge masses 
of ice. 

All aroimd there is the desolation of death. l^To flocks wander along the mountain 
sides. No herds of cattle resort to them in quest of pastiu-e. No bird hovers over the 
landscape with feeble or witli mighty wing. jN"o stream dashes along the valleys. 
The very trees, hea-i.-y laden A-iith tlieir wintry coverings, stand stiff and motionless. 
The snow which lies on the surface of the earth seems like the funeral-paU of nature. 
The silence that prevails is profound, and almost painfid. The very echoes are departed, 
and the blast of a tnunpet, if sounded, woidd die as soon as blown. But there is 
sublimity in the stillness and desolation. Yet, look, there is one sign of life, — ^it is the 
taU column of pale, blue smoke, curling slowly upwards, — the proof that a village is at 
hand. To vfander in that direction, is to find that the road is cleared for some distance, 
and on enteriiig the village, every house appears carefidly disengaged from the vast 
masses of snow which collect around it, while other paths lead to the storehouse of fuel, 
and to other spots aromid. 

Glaciers are natural appendages to snow mountains ; the former indeed cannot exist 
without the latter — " the eternal reservoirs," as tliey liavo sometimes been called. The 
snow-line itself constitutes the point ^y\\eve tlie .^no^\' mountain teriuiuates and the 
glacier begins. This may be described as a stream of ice flowing down a declivity 
between banks, which are sometimes precipitous. The sea of ice has its source in the 
regions of perpetual snow ; and is, in fact, snow passing into ice and mingled with it. 
The impression that to walk on a glacier is as difla.cult as to do so on a frozen sheet of 
water, is therefore erroneous ; for the entire sm'face, except where it is vertical, or nearly 
so, is covered vrith gritty particles. These particles are derived from rocks on the 
surface of the glacier, and from the sides of the valley doAvn which the ice-stream flows ;— 
partly from the motion of the glacier itself, and partly from the rains Avashing doAvn the 
from the higher grounds. 



The chasms in the glaciers are frequently many feet wide, and more than a hundred 
deep. Their formation, which never takes place in winter, but is frequent during 
summer, is accompanied with a loud noise resembling thunder, and a shock which makes 




[.riXK LAiNDSCAPE. 



the neighbouring mountains tremble. These chasms are subject to change every day, 
and almost every hour, and hence the ascent of the glaciers is so dangerous to travellers. 
Sometimes there are found in the glaciers pyramids of ice, of a regular fonn and a 



CHASMS ON THE GLACIERS. 



considerable elevation, on the tops of which are placed large pieces of rocks. At the lower 
extremity of the glaciers is an excavation in the form of a grotto, frequently a hundred 




FROZEN CASCADE OF GRIESSBACH. 



feet high, and from sixty to eighty wide, whence issues a small river, briuguig down a 
blueish water. Though every single crystal of the ice of the glaciers seems perfectly white, 



10 



THE ALPS. 



the whole mass is of a blvie coloiir, passing through every shade, from the most feeble 
sky-blue to that of the lapis lazuli, and it is most pure and beautiful in the lower part of 
the chasms. 

Yaried and nimierous are the beauties pf the glaciers, partly owing to their peculiar 
nature, and partly to the contrast they present with the country around. Before the eye 
of the traveller extend immense icy masses, traversed, in all directions, by yawning 
chasms descending to a depth unlaio'v^Ti, and surrounded by icy turrets, cliffs, and 
perpendicular walls, of the most divers and fantastic forms. As the background of the 
vast picture, black rocks, of immense altitude, arise in the shape of peaks, out of a sea of 
snow of spotless purity; and horror would at once IhriU through his frame, did not 
astonishment and admiration steal over hiin, and hold him spell-bound at the spectacle 
he now siuweys. 

A blueish tint is spread over the whole Alpine region, up to the very borders of the 
snow mountains, attaining in their vast caverns the deepest hue and greatest beauty. 
And when he turns his back, the icy masses on which he stands appear smTounded by 
forests, iields, pastures, and orcliards. To the left, there is a meadow of the most vei'dant 
turf, where flocks of sheep are grazing, while the shejDherd tunes his flute or sings his 
pastoral la)' ; to the right, is a gentle slope, covered with full-ripe barley, which the 
I'eapers are intent on gathering in ; whilst before him, on the banks of a river, -with its 
whitish green waters, is a neatly-built village, vith its houses surroimded by fruit-trees, 
amidst which cherries abound. " At no great distance are a few groves of high forest- 
trees, mostly of the pine kind, which, by their sombre aspect, do not fail to impress a 
degree of earnestness on the cheerful landscape. At mony places the scenery receives an 
additional zest from a small lake inclosed bj^ meadows, from whose smooth surface the 
surrounding moruitains are reflected, with their glaciers, snow-fields, and dark peaks. 
At another spot a cataract precipitates its silvery waters do^Yn tho perpendicular declivities 
of a black rocky mass, the falling stream being frequently deflected from its straight line 
by a gust of wind." * 

Strange indeed is tli.e appearance of an imniense ruin changed into ice. Yet its icj' 
masses of fantastic foi'uis, rising Avith sharp pouits or edges to the altitude of a hmidred 
feet, are subject to continual changes. " Every moiuciit in sununor," it has been said, 
" su.ch steeples, vvalls, or cohmms, break dcnai partly or entirely; and when these icy 
masses are standing on the edge of a perpendicular or ]3rt!cipituus rock, they tmnble down 
with a loud but peculiar crash, and in falling are broken up into many thousand pieces, 
which, when viewed from afar, resemble the cataract of a torrent. This is one of the 
most extraordinary and grandest A'iews the traveller can enjoy in the Alps." 

The declaration of the poet — 

'■ Tlie glaeier's cold and restless nuiss 
!Movc's onward day by day," 

is now an established fact, for which we arc specially indebted to the intelligence, energy, 
and perseverance of Mr. Forbes. Prior to his examination of the matter, but little was 
known respecting it. He made liis obser-\\ations opposite a solid wall of rock in contact 
with the ice, on which the progress of the glacier might be marked as it slid hj ; while 
a hole in the ice was made to the depth of two feet, ovei' Avhich a theodolite — a surveying 
instrmnent — was nicely centred bj' means of a plumb line. A level ran directly to the 
smooth face of the glacier, being sixteen and a half inches more in advance than it 
had been twenty-six hours before. Thus, the motion of a glacier was, for the first time, 
accurately determined. 

* WitticK's " Curiosities of Geography." 



MORAIXEi^ — A\-AIAXC:HES. 1 1 

The question now arose, was this motion equable, or otherwise ? On the following 
day, Mr. Forbes broixght it to tlie test, and found that in twenty-five and a half hours, 
the advance had been seventeen and a half inches, and consequently a little more rapid 
than on the preceeding day. On another occasion it was not so great. But the object 
aimed at was gained. " The marks on the rock," says Mr. Forbes, " indicated by a 
regular descent, in which time was marked out as by a shadow on a dial; and the 
miequivocal evidence which I had now of the sinldng or rising of the glacier ; for if this 
varied, the telescope placed at the top of the theodolite would be no longer level, and the 
amoimt of variation being kno^iii, the alteration in the surface of the glacier coidd be 
easily determined. Other fixed marks vrere made for noting the dov\'nward or forward 
motion of the icy stream, which was afterwards measm-ed from day to day oa the smooth 
.face of the rock ; — ^first with a conmion pencil, and afterwards indented in the rock with a 
chisel, above which a mark was made with red paint, to which the date was affixed." 

On the 27tli of June, 1842, Mr. Forbes made his first observation, and on the telescope 
being turned on the rock, the red mark was foimd to be left far above, and the new position 
for the first time obtained, he says " That even whilst walking on a glacier, we are day by 
daj% and hour by hom-, imperceptibly carried on, by the resistless flow of this icy stream, 
with a solemn slowness that eludes our imaided senses, and tilled me A^^Lth an admiration 
almost to awe ; whilst I foresaw with lively interest the definite and satisfactory know- 
ledge of laws which woidid result from these methods of observation." 

The moraines, sometimes called glacier-walls, are icy masses, extending , along the 
lateral margins of the glaciers, and usually surroiuiding also their lower terminations. 
Except where the glacier is comiected with the snow}' masses from which it branches off, 
they surround the glacier on all sides. On the top of these walls are fragments of rock 
of different dimensions, and stonj' rubbish which have there accumulated so as to cover 
the upper part entii'elj'- and to form long dykes. In some of the larger glaciers, such 
a wall is formd in the middle of the icy mass, where it runs parallel to the walls l^dng 
along its borders. Some of them attain an elevation of sixty or eighty feet above their 
base ; but in approaching the lower extremitj- of the glacier, they sink gradualljr down, 
so that at the termination they are nearly on a level with the surface. At some places 
are found the glacier-tables ; they consist of colimins of ice, rising at times to eighty 
feet and more, and supporting on their tops a large piece of rock, which projects on all 
sides over the icy columus. 

Another Alpine phenomenon may now be noticed ; for, sometimes, loud crashes, like 
thimder- claps, and like them, too, followed bj' prolonged rolling, interrupt the reverie in 
which the mind of the traA'eller is naturally engaged, awakening, where the cause is 
Tinknown, a feeling of terror ; and sho^dng, when aAvare of it, how enormous are the 
masses of ice whose fall produces so tremendous a crash. Avalanches ai'e, indeed, 
among the most extraordinary and terrible of natm-al phenomena. The}- occur where 
vallej's lie embosomed in high moimtains covered ■ndth snow, but as the declivities of the 
Alps are very steep, they are there proportionately frequent, and vary alike in their 
causes and residts vrith. different seasons. 

The summer avalanche is caused bj' the subrnolting of the snow, wliich undermines its 
support, and the mass, once set in motion, descends with great violence. Such 
phenomena are of frequent occurrence in some particular districts, and that conuuonly 
when western winds prevail, and the sky is very serene. Simond thus pictures a party 
observing these astoimding phenomena from the top of the Wengern alp, looking towards 
the Jimgfrau, the two Eigers, and some other of the highest summits of the Alps :— 

" We sometimes saw a blue line suddenly drawn across a field of prne white, then 
another above it ; another, and another, all parallel, and attended each time by a loud 
crash, like cannon ; producing together the effect of long protracted peals of thmider. 



12 THE AI.PS. 

At other times, some portion of the vast iield of snow, or rather snowy ice, gliding gently 
away, exposed to view a new surface of purer white than the first, and the cast-off 
drapery, gathering in long folds, either fell at once doWa the precipice, or disappeared 
behind some intervening ridge, which the sameness of colour rendered invisible, and was 
again seen soon after in another direction, shooting out of some narroAV channel a cataract 
of white dust, which, observed through a telescope, was, however, found to be composed of 
broken fragments of ice, or compact snow, many of them sufficient to overwhelm a village, 
if there had been any in the valley where they fell. 

" Seated on their chMet's roof, the ladies forgot that they were cold, wet, bruised, and 
hungry, and the cup of still-smoking caf(^-au-lait stood still in their hand, while 
waiting in breathless suspense for the next avalanche, wondering equally at the death- 
like silence intervening between each, and the thundering crash that followed. I must 
own, that while we shut our ears, the mere sight might dwindle down to the effect of a 
fall of snow from the roof of a house ; but when the potent sound was heard along the 
whole range of many miles, when the time of awful suspense between the fall and the 
crash was measured, the imagination taking flight, outstripped all bounds at once, and 
went beyond the mighty reality itself." 

The avalanches of winter are occasioned by the masses of snow accmnulating on the 
slopes of the mountains, where it is too dry to attach firmly ; and when the weight of 
snow exceeds the sujDporting resistance of the sm'face of the ground, it slides off into the 
valley belQ,w with a suddenness and violence resembling those of a cannon-ball. 

When the avalanches are not of very great size, and men and cattle are overwhelmed, 
then, as the air contained in the interstices of the snow is sufficient to support life, so the 
animal heat melts the snow, and thus prepares for their extrication ; but when they are 
of verj' large size, unless speedy succour be afforded, men and cattle will ine-sdtably 
perish from cold. Those which occur at the end of the -winter, and during the spring, 
are occasioned by the rolling or sliding of masses of snow which have become compact 
and adliesive and are detached from the higher regions by a thaw, the force of their 
OAvn weight, or any other cause. Such a mass rolls down the declivities, iuereasing by 
the adherence of the snow with which it meets, and it then precipitates itseK with 
frightful violence into the lower districts, dragging with it large pieces of rock, over- 
whelming and destroying not merely houses but %allages, and uprooting entire forests of 
trees. 

In the spring it is, therefore, necessary to take special precautions in the passes of the 
Alps. Thus, if a pistol be fired off before passing the most dangerous spots, the agitation 
of the air usually causes the fall of the masses most likely to become detached, and the 
path may, consequently, be traversed in safety. In perilous places it is necessary to set 
out early in the morning, before the sun has softened the snow, and to proceed as quickly 
as possible. It is also reconmiended that persons who are compelled to make such a 
journej", should travel in company, and should keep at proper distances from each other, 
that if on some an avalanche should fall, the others may be able to afford relief. At such 
times the bells are taken from the horses lest their tinklings shoidd occasion some 
catastrophe ; and the smallest soimd will cause a fall of snow. It is even said that 
pushing mth the feet against the edge of a beginning cliff, in a bed of snow, is often 
sufficient to determine the fall of an avalanche. 

An avalanche proved fatal during the ascent of Mont Blanc by Dr. Hamel, a Russian 
physician, in 1820. The party had breakfasted on the Grand Plateau; they then 
traversed the plain, and began to ascend the highest steeps of the mountain called among 
the guides La Calotte de Mont Blanc. In proceeding obliquely upwards, they 
approached a dark rock deeply imbedded in the snow ; when the catastrophe occurred, 
as thus related by Julien Devouassou, one of the guides : — 



FATAL A^•AIA^•CHE. 



13 



" At the moment of the disaster, the leading guide was Pierre Carriez ; the second, 
Pierre Bahnat ; the third, Aiiguste Tairraz (these three perished) ; the fourth, myself; 




THE AVALANCHE. 



then next to me, Marie Coutet (our captain) ; then behind were five other guides, with 
Dr. Hamel, and two English gentlemen. Suddenly, I heard a sort of rushing sound. 



14 " T}1K Aj.rs. 

not veiy loud ; but I had not time to think about it, as I lioai'd the soiuid, at the same 
instant that the avalanche was upon me. I felt my feet slide from beneath me, and 
saAv the three tirst men falling on the snow Avith their feet foremost. In falling, I 
cried oixt loudly, * We are all lost ! ' I tried to support myself by planting the ice-pole 
below me, but in vain. The weight of snow forced me over the baton, and it slipped out 
of my hand. I rolled down like a ball in the mass of loose snow. At the foot of the 
slope Avas a yaAvning chasm, to the edge of which I was rapidly descending. Three times 
I saAV the light, as I Avas rolling doAvn the slope ; and AAdien Ave Avere all on the very edge 
of the chasm, I saw the leg- of one of my comrades just as he pitched doAvn into the 
creA'ice. I think it must liavc been poor Auguste, for it looked black, and I remember 
that Auguste had on black gaiters. This Avas the last I saAV of my three companions, 
Avho fell headlong into the gulf, a.nd Avere never seen or heard of again. 

"At this moment I was just falling into the same crevice, and can but confusedly 
luiderstand avIij' I did not ; but I think I OAve my Hfe to a A^ery singidar circiunstance. 
Dr. Hamel had given me a bai'ometer to cari'jr ; this was fastened round my waist bj'- a 
strong girdle. I fancy that at the moment this long barometer got beneath and across 
mc, for the girdle suddenly broke, and I made a sort of boimd as I fell ; and so, instead of 
folloAviug my poor comrades, I AA'as pushed over into another crevice close b_y that in 
AA'hich they Avere killed. This chasm Avas already partly filled with snow ; I do not think 
that I fell more than iiity feet down, alighting on a soft cushion of snoAV, and a good 
deal covered Avith it above. I suppose, before tiimbling into the chasm, we slid doAvn 
150 to 200 feet ; but I cannot tell, for it seemed to be not more than a minute from the 
time I heard the noise of l]io a^■:^la]lche aboA^e me, till I foxmd myself Ijdng deep down in 
a narroAV crack." 

Coutet replied to a question : — 

" I shoiud fancy I slid doAvn ncai' 400 feet, and tmnbled headlong about sixty feet."' 
When Jidien Avas asked AAdiat his thoughts AA'cre during his fall : liis reply was, — " "While 
1 was rolling I said to myself, ' Fai'cwell, my Avife and my children!' and I asked pardon 
of God. I absolutely tliought nothing of the others." 

" On coming to myseif," continued Jidien, " I was better off than I exjoected. I was 
lying on my back, heels upAvards, AAdtli my head resting against the icy walls of the 
crack, and coidd see some light and a little of the blue sky through two oj)enings OA^er 
my head. I AA'as greatly afi'aid some of my limbs had been broken, but I had sunk into 
the mass of soft snoA^', and though bruised, hj falling against the sides of the ice, yet 
nothing Avas broken, and in a fcAv moments I contrived to get ujj on my feet. On 
looking up, I saAV a little above me a man's head projecting from the snoAV. It was 
Marie Coutet (our captain) ; he was quite covered A^ith snoAV up to the neck, his arms 
pinioned doAvn, and his face quite blue, as if he was nearly suffocated. 

" Ho called to me in a Ioay A^oice, to come and help him. I foimd a pole in the 
crevice (I think not one belonging to those who perished, but another) ; I went to 
Coutet, dug round him witli the baton, and in a fcAv minutes got Coutet clear out of the 
snoAV, and Ave sat doA^•n together. We remained in silence looking at each other for a 
minute or tAvo, thinking that all the rest were killed. Then I began to crawl xqj on the 
snow that partty filled the crack, and in climbing up I saw aboA'e DaA^id Coutet, aa'Iio 
Avas crj'ing, tind sajdng, ' My poor brother is lost ! ' I said ' JN'o ; he is here below' (for 
Coutet was climbing behind Jidion, and Avas not seen at first) ; and I asked, ' Are the 
others all up thei'o !"" They ansAvered, ' That there Avere three missing.' I asked, ' Who 
they v.'ere ?' and the ansAver AA-as ' Pierre Carriez, Pierre Balmat, and Auguste Tairraz.' 
I then asked, 'if the gentlemen had receiA'cd anyinjmy?' and the rejily Avas, 'No.' 
Then the guides lielped us to get up about fom-teen feet on the solid ice. They threw us 
doAAai a little asc tp cut steps, and put doAA'n their poles, and we tAvo got out. We all 



THK I'KorLK OF S\\]TZKI{L.\^-D. 15 

weut to search for the three others ; -w^e soundecl with our poles, we cried aloud, we 
called them by their names, put down a long pole into the snow, and listened — but all 
was in A'ain, we heard not the slightest sound. We spent two hoiu's in this melancholy 
search, and by this time were well nigh frozen, for the wind Avas bitterly cold, our poles 
covered ^Yith. ice, our shoes frozen as hard as horn. We were compelled to descend ; we 
hurried down ia perfect silence, and retm-ned to the uui late at night." The avalanche, 
fatal in this instance, was supposed to be 200 feet in height, and 150 in breadth. 

" The peculiar featm-e in the condition of the S-ndss population," says Mr. Laing, 
" the great charm of Switzerland, next to its natiu-al scenery, is the air of well-being, 
the neatness, the sense of propriety imprinted on the people, their d.vrellings, their plots 
of land. They have a kind of Robinson Crusoe industry about their houses and little 
properties ; tlicy are perpetually building, repairing, altering, or improving something 
about their tenements. The spirit of the proprietor is not to be mistaken in all that one 
sees in Switzerland. Some cottages, for instance, ai'e adoi'ued -nith long texts from 
Sciipture, painted on or burnt into, the wood in front over the door ; others, especiallj' 
in the Simmenthal and Haslethal, with the pedigree of the builder and o■\^^ler. These 
show sometimes that the property has been held for two hxmdred years by the same 
family. The modern taste of the proprietor shows itself in new windows, or additions to 
the old. original picturesqire dwelling, which, mth its immense projecting roof, sheltering 
or shading all these successive little additions, looks like a hen sitting with a brood of 
chickens under her wings. 

" None of the women are exempt from field-work, not even in the families of very 
substantial peasant proprietors, whose houses are furnished as well as any coimtry-houses 
AAath us. All work as regidarly as the poorest male individual. The land, however, being 
their own, they have a choice of work, and the hard work is generally done by the men. 
The felling and bringing home wood for fuel ; the mowing grass, generally, but not 
always ; the carrying manm-e on their back ; the handHng horses and cows, digging, and 
such hea-sy labour, is man's work : — the binding the ^ine to a pole with a straw, which is 
done three times in the coujrse of its growth ; the making the hay, the pruning the "\ine, 
twitching off the superfluous leaves and tendrils, — these lighter, yet necessary jobs to 
be done about vineyards or orchards, form the woman's work. But females, both in 
France and Switzerland, appear to have a far more important role in the family, among 
the lower and middle classes, than with us. The female, though not exempt from out-door 
work, and even hard worlc, undertakes the thinking and managing department in the 
family affairs, and the husband is but the executive officer. The female is, in fact, very 
remarkablj^ superior in manners, habits, tact, and intelligence to the husband, in almost 
every family of the middle or loAver classes in Switzerland. One is surprised to see the 
wife of such good, even genteel manners, and soimd sense, and altogether such a 
superior person to her station, and the husband verj^ often a mere lout. ' The hen is the 
better bird all over Switzerland.' " 



CHAPTER III. 

THE JURA MOUNT.UNS CROSSED TO ST. CERGUES NYON FIRST SIGHT 01' THE L.iKE OF 

GENEVA ^THE CITY ITS EDIl'TCES ISLAND OF ROUSSEAU HISTORICAL ASSOCIATIONS OF 

GENEVA ITS EMINENT PERSONS. 

If the tourist would reach Switzeilancl from France, he ^^•iU cross the Jm'a mountains, 
a cham of central Eiu-ope, usually classed with the Alpine system. It is a range of 
broad limestone, swelling out at several points to the elevation of more than 5,000 feet 
above the sea-level, and corresponds exactly ■\\'ith our oolitic system. Luxuriant pine 
forests clothe the Jura from the base to the summit, and in this respect it diiiers from 
the other and loftier momitains of Switzerland. Now these forests appear advancing 
as so many isolated promontories and outports ; then they are grouped into a range of 
hills, or lift on high their serrated and precipitous ridges ; but towards their base, they 
are variegated by intricate and romantic valleys, and labyrinths of rich meadow land, 
which strikingly relieve and ornament the sombre forests, covering, as with a rugged 
mantle of vegetation, the whole moimtainous chain. 

The traveller, whirled onwards towards Switzerland by the locomotive to Chalons, 
nmibles across the Jm'a mountains bj' diligence ; his feelings, meanwhile, being probably 
strangely excited by the objects around, and especially in anticipation. Rousseau says, 
at such a time : — " The nearer I approached S-witzerland, the more was I excited. The 
moment, when from the heights of the Jura, I discovered the lake of Geneva, was a 
moment of extasy and ravishment. The sight of my comitry, of that country so beloved 
by me, where torrents of pleasui'e had inundated my heart ; the air of the Alps, so 
healthful and so pm-e ; the sweet air of my native land, more delicious than the perfumes of 
the East ; that rich and fertile land ; that miique coimtry, the most beautiful on which 
the eye of man ever rested ! charming residence to which I had found no equal in the 
circuit of the world ! the sight of a happy and free people ! the mildness of the season, 
the serenity of the climate, a thousand delightful remembrances which aroused all the 
feelings I had experienced ; — all this threw me into transports which I cannot 
describe, and seemed to restore to me at once the enjoyment of my whole life." 

At St. Cergues, the tourist 'will do well to pause, and availing himself of a guide and 
a mule, make the ascent of the Dole — a task neither wearisome nor perilous, and 
occupying about three hours ; — ^it is the most elevated summit of this part of the Jura 
chain, and ample is the reward in the far-stretching scene it commands, no less delightful 
in its variety than surprising in its extent. If, however, this high gratification be 
denied, the descent is by a zigzag road to the bottom of the Jura, and crossing a level 
piece of gromid, covered with vineyards and corn-fields, and dotted here and there by 
-villas greatty diversified in size and form, the little to-\vn of Nyon, standing on a height, 
is reached. 

But, not to hasten onwards to our loss : — at the edge of the summit of the Jura 



CLOUD SCENERY. 17 

mountains a magnificent view bursts upon the ej^e. Tlie lake of Geneva is a charming 
spectacle ; but there 

" are the Alps, 

The palaces of nature, whose vast walls 
Have pinnacled in clouds theii- snowy scalps, 

And thi'oned Eternity in icy halls 
Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls 

The avalanche — the thunderbolt of snow ! 
All that expands the spirit, yet appals, 

Gather around the summits, as to show 
How earth may soar- to Heaven, yet leave vain man below." * 

The prospect unfolding to the eye is that of the Mont Blanc range ; and should 
the weather be auspicious, " as a bridegroom cometh forth from his chamber," so may 
" the monarch of mountains" be seen emerging from his magnificent pavilion of mist 
and cloud. 

On such a spectacle, however, we cannot certainly calculate ; for those who know him 
best, will liken him to the, oriental beauty who only now and then reveals her charms as 
she withdraws her veil ; while there is a compensation for the concealment, to which she 
can make no pretence, ia the startHng, enthralling, and overwhelmiug gorgeousness of 
cloud scenery among the mountains. So it was, indeed, to Wordsworth, when be 
exclaimed : — 

" A step, 

A single step, that freed me from the skirts 

Of the blind vapom-, opened to my view 

Glory beyond all glory ever seen, 

By waking sense, or by the dreaming soul. 

The appearance instantaneously disclosed 

Was of a mighty city— boldly say 

A wilderness of building, sinking far. 

And self- withdrawn into a wondrous depth. 

Far sinking into splendom' without end ! 

Fabric it seemed of diamond and gold. 

With alabaster domes, and silver spires. 

And blazing terrace upon terrace high 

UpHfted ; here serene pavilions bright, 

In avenues disposed ; there towers begirt 

With battlements, that on their restless fronts 

Bore stars, — illumination of all gems ! 

O ! 'twas an unimagmable sight ! 

Clouds, mists, streams, watery rooks, and emerald turf. 

Clouds of all tincture, rocks, and sapphire sky, 

Confused, commingled, mutually inflamed. 

Molten together, and composing thus. 

Each lost in each, that marvellous array 

Of temple, palace, citadel, and huge 

Fantastic pomp of structm-e without name. 

In fleecy folds voluminous enwrapped. 
. Right in the midst where inter-space appeared ' 

Of open court, an object Uke a throne 

Beneath a shining canopy of state 

Stood fixed." f 

Such a throne has the sovereign of the Alps, among whose regalia is 
" a diadem of snow." 

* Byi'on. t Wordsworth. 



18 SWITZEULANB 

Geneva, speedily readied from Nj^on, the most populous city of Switzerland, and tlie 
capital of the smallest of its cantons, is biult upon two hills, di^dded by the Ehone where 
it issues from .the lake; but the hill on the south bank of the river attains a height of 
about 100 feet above the lake, and this is the site of the larger part of the city. The 
river forms an island withia the city ; it is built upon, and though a separate district, is 
joined by bridges to the two. banks. A smaller island at the precise point where the 
Rhone issues from the lake, bears the name of Jean Jacques Rousseau, and looks towards 
Mont Blanc. Planted with trees, and furnished "wdth benches, it forms a favourite 
evening lounge to the iahabitants of Geneva and its. numberle,ss visitors. As if the face 
of nature in its vicinity were so grand that the emtdation of art would seem misplaced, 
and even wasted, the city has no charms for the eye in regular, much less splendid 
buildings. The lower town is the chief seat of commercial activity. It has narrow 
streets and lofty hoiises, some of which have what is called " a dome," biit literally a 
penthouse, projecting from the street, and supported by wooden props reaching from 
the pavement. 

The principal edifice is the cathedral, or chiu'ch of St. Peter, the interior of which is 
interesting as a very early and imcorrupted specimen of the Gothic of the eleventh century. 
The miiseimi, which bears the name of General Rath, its foimder and generous supporter, 
contains chiefly the works of native artists. The geological collections of Saussm-e, 
who was the first to eifect the ascent of Mont Blanc ; the fossil plants of M.M. Brogniart 
and De Candolle ; and the collections of M. JN'ecker — for the most part of the native 
productions of Switzerland— are deposited in the Musee d'Histoire JSTaturelle. 

Just above the cathedral is the Promenade de la Treille, a broad walk planted with 
trees. As the "\asitor looks down, the Botanical Gardens, in all the variety and richness 
of their flowery parterre, are seen ; and beyond are other highly favoured spots, with 
highly cultivated fields, intersected bj^ callages and chiirches, stretching out to the foot 
of the Grand Saleve, mth its long range of limestone precipices. The walks thus 
pro^dded exhibit an amazing and delightfid variety. From some points of the ramparts 
the buildings on the west, loftily rising in the form of an amphitheatre, and crowned 
by the venerable towers of the cathedral, have a very striking efiect; and in other 
directions there is a wonderfid blending of the sublime and pictiires.que. There, for 
instance, is the lovely lake, with its mirror-Wve sui-foce, to which mnbrageoxis foliage, 
villas, and pastiires, serve as a boixler ; — -then 

" The otcrual mountaiais moiiioutly are ptcring- 
Thi-ougli the blue clouds that mantle them ; — on high, 
Theii' glittering crests magnificently rearing, 
More like to childi'en of the ru finite sky, 
Than of the doedal earth." 

The imposing grandem- of the Jui-a motmtains bounds the view on the west ; towards 
the south and east appear the white rocks of the Saleve, the Mole, the Brevent, the ISTeedle 
of Varens, and other vast moimtains ; and then at the distance of fifty miles — 

" Prince of the whiilwind ! Monarch of the scene ! 
Mightiest where all are mighty ! fi'om the eye 
Of mortal man half-hidden by the screen 
Of mists, that moat his base, from Arve's dark, deep ravine, 
Stands the magnificent Mont Blanc ! His brow 
ScaiTed with ten thousand thmiders ; most sublime, 
Even as though risen from the world below. 
To mark the progress of ])ccay : by clime, 
Storm, blight, Sie, earthquake — injiu'ed not ! Like Time, 
Stern chronicler of centui-ies gone by." 



flAlVIN FAHEL— VIRET. 



Apart from the beauties and sublimities of Alpiae scenery, the historical associations 
of Geneva compensate for its limited extent, and for its want of an imposing appearance. 
" When I shake my peruque," said Voltaire, ia his ridicide, " I powder all the republic ; " 
yet the site of that city was the seed-plot of opinions whose fruit was gathered in the ' 
revolutions of England, France, and America. With a similar feeling to that displayed 
by the philosopher, the emperor Paul deemed " a tempest in a tumbler of water," a iit 
image for the contentions among its people ; j'et out of them arose the difpiision of the 
doctrines of the Reformation, not only in Europe, but among that aggregate of nations 
wliich has found a domicile on the western shores of the Atlantic. 

Greneva was one of the scenes of Calvin's arduous and devoted labours ; and here he 
established a seminary for the education of young men in the Protestant faith, in order 
to the diffiision of its principles. Far el was alreadj^ there when Calvin arrived, a fugitive 
from the persecutions of France. In natm-al, quahties they were strikingly contrasted, 
though animated by one and the same spirit. If Calvin had the timidity of the hare, 
Farel was com-ageous as the lion. Calvin was the scholar, accustomed to quiet and 
patient thought at home in his library or the coUege haU; Farel was intent on practical 
effort, assiduous, energetic, and untiring. For elegance and taste of composition, Calvin 







, was highly distinguished ; the special gift of Farel was that of attractive and impressive 
eloquence. On the gathering of the storm of conflict, Calvin woidd retii-e to devise some 
other way to triumph ; Farel would face boldly the most innninent danger, and brave 
the onslaught of the mightiest foes. And there was another associated with them, Viret, 
worthy of such companions, whose speech is said to have been so fascinating that the 
people hung intently on his Hps, notwithstanding a strong disinclination to listen — a 
power marvellously adapted to the times in which he lived, and which could not fail to 
produce signal results. 

Calvin foimded the Hbrary attached to the college, which stands behind the cathedral, 
and is said to contain 40,00^ volmnes. Here are some literary memorials of the great 
reformer, in nearly four hundred autograph letters, now almost illegible, but accompanied, 
by fair transcripts. Among these is one addi'essed to Lady Jane Grey, when a prisoner 
in the Tower of Londen, There are also several volumes of letters addi'essed to Calvin ; 

c2 



20 



SWITZERLAND. 



forty-four volumes of his manuscript sermons ; as well as other literary curiosities, at 
which those who revere his memory will lilte to glance. It is remarkable that of Calvin 
there is no tomb, nor even a statue, pillar, or monument, in commemoration of his 
memory. The only reKc extant of the reformer in Geneva, is the sounding-board of the 
pulpit in the cathedral in which he used to preach. 

Beza was another leader of the reformers, and a zealous and formidable controver- 




AEJIS or GENEVA. 



siaHst. Like Calvin, he found in Geneva an asylum from persecution. The admiration 
he previously felt for that distinguished man, was greatly increased by closer intimacy ; 
"he seldom quitted him, and in his society made great progress both in matters of doc- 
trine and church discipline."* At Calvin's request he was admitted to be a citizen of 




CATHEDRAL OF GENEVA. 



Geneva ; he was appointed to assist him in giving lectures on theology ; and on the 
University of Geneva being founded, he became rector on Calvin's declining that office. 

Theodore Agrippa D'Aubign^ was a pupil of Beza's; and his history is not a little 
remarkable. His character was one of great disinterestedness, and his voice was always 
raised for Huguenot independence against the insiduous proposals of the court. On one 

* La Faye. 



occasion he condiicted a controversy with Cardinal Du Perron, and engaged for the 
Huguenots, that they would submit to what coiild be proved to have been the practice of 
the Christian Church for the first four hundred years of Christianity. "Grant us," said 
the Cardinal, "foi'ty-four more in addition." "I will," replied D'Aubigne : and when 
expostulated with for such a concession, he acutely replied : "Does not the Cardinal own, 
by his demand of forty-four more years, that the traditions of the first four centui-ies are 
at variance with his propositions ?" D'Aubign^'s chief fame in literatui-e is derived from 
the "History of the Hugiienots." A modern writer, bearing the same name, has obtained 
great celebrity for his " History of the Eeformation." 

Of other persons eminent in literature and science, and connected with Geneva, we 
may now take a rapid glance: Horace Benedict de Saussure was bom there, Feb. 17th, 
1740, and imbibing a taste for the study of natiu-e from his father, a man of considerable 
scientific and literary ability, became professor of philosophy at Geneva at the age of 




ISL.\ND OF EOUSSEAU. 



twenty- two. He travelled in search of knowledge in France, England, and other parts 
of Europe. In 1760 he began his exploration of the Glaciers of the Alps, makiag to 
them annual excursions, and in 1779 he had crossed the Alps fourteen times, ia eight 
different tracks. In that year he piibHshed the first volume of his "Voyage dans les Alpes," 
which, in after years, was followed by three more. In July, 1788, he succeeded in reaching 
the summit of Mont Blanc, the most elevated peak of the Alpine chain; and in the 
following year, he explored Monte Rosa in the Pennine Alps. Saussure was the author 
of many essays and papers, and invented various philosophical instrimients. 

Charles Bonnet, at an earlier period than the birth of Saussure, was a native of the same 
city. Destined for the legal profession, the accidental perusal of a work on natural 
history gave him such a predilection for that science, as to induce him to give it 
thenceforward his chief attention. At the early age of eighteen, he entered on a corre- 
spondence with the celebrated French natiu-alist, Reammu', and commimicated to him 
some curious entomological discoveries in reference to the aphis, a green insect found in _ 



SWITZEBIAND. 



the I'ose-tree. These were followed by various others, as to caterpillars, and worms. 
He subsequent!}'- engaged ia experiments on vegetable physiology; and was the author of 
several works on this, as well as other subjects. His "Contemplation of iN'ature" has been 
translated into several Eiu'opean languages, and -commented on by various writers. 

De Candolle is connected with a later period in the history of science, to which he has 
rendered highly important services, especially in his office of professor in the city of 
G-eneva. Limiteus attempted to classify plants according to their agreement in some 
single characters, without reference to their resemblances or differences in any other 
respect, just as words are arranged in a dictionary by the accordance of their iuitial 
letters. On the other hand, the natiu'al system of botany Avas formed by JiLSsieu out of 
Ijhe views of Eay, Tournefort, and others, combined ^^dth very nimierous observations of 
his own. It has, however, been much modified by succeeding systematists, and parti- 
cidarly by the laboiu's of De Candolle. 

Jean Jacques Rousseau was born at Geneva. Madame do Stael was born at Paris, 
but her father, the celebrated financier, Necker, was a native of Geneva, and important 






' h 



■ywTife 



'K 





portions of her life were passed in Smtzerland. The productions of her pen are niunerous 
and various. As a literary person, she was the most distingiushed woman of her age ; 
and though open to the weakness of ambition, ■v^•a8 always siucere, honest, and iade- 
pendent. 

A distinguished contemporary of Madame de Stael was Jean Charles Leonard Sismondi, 
and with her, as well as the celebrated Benjamin Constant, he enjoyed at Geneva a 
delightful and profitable intimacy. Sympathy of literary tastes produced the sincerest 
friendship between these two eminently gifted persons ; while the influence of the scenes 
they Adsited together in Italy, and the poetic charm cast upon them by the conversation of 
the celebrated authoress of " Corinne," determined Sismondi to consecrate the past glories 
of the land of his ancestors in the page of history. The com-se of lectm-es he delivered 
at Geneva, on the literatvu'e of the South of Europe, is well known. 

• -Passing now from these eminent .persons, it may be remarked, in closing the present 
chapter, that Geneva is one of the chief seats of the watch manufacture of Switzerland. 
Its origin and progress are not a little singidar. So early as the seventeenth centiu-y. 



GENEVA. 23 

some •worlanen had constructed wooden clocks with, weights, taking for their model the 
parish clock which was placed in the church of Locle in the year 1630. It must, how- 
ever, have been at best but a clumsy machine, for the idea of using springs in such 
structiu'es had not, at that time, been entertaiued. But, towards the close of the same 
century, a Swiss moimtaineer, retiu^niag from a long voyage, brought with him the first 
watch that his coimtrjnnen had ever beheld, and on its requiriag to be repaired, he 
committed it to a skilful workman named Richard. 

Richard fixlly justified his confidence ; he repaired the watch, and still fm-ther, after 
accurately examiniag its mechanism, formed the purpose of constructing a similar article. 
Nov was this any ordinary task ; for not only was he compelled to fabricate all its 
movements, but the tools that wore necessary to assist him in his laboms. The result 
of his sldll and peise^erence excited gieat attention, and led •5e\eral ingenious and 
energetic men to follow liis example. Thus the inhabitants of the mountains, hitherto 
exercising no other trade or profession than those Avhich weie stiictly necessary to their 




daily wants, had the art of watch-maldng introduced among them, which, has been pro- 
ductive of many and great advantages. 

Obliged for a mmiber of years to import their tools, they gradually sm-moim"ted this 
disadvantage, learning to make and improve upon them. As, too, the art of watch-making 
became more developed, several of the artizans went to Paris to perfect themselves in it, 
and contributed on their retm-n greatly to advance the general skUl. It is not more 
than eighty or ninety years, since a few merchants began to co]]gct together small 
parcels of watches, in order to sell them in foreign markets. The success which attended 
these specidations encoui-aged the popidation of Switzerland to devote themselves still 
more to this manufactm-e, so that it has been embraced by a large munber of persons. 
Musical boxes and jewellery also contribute to the commercial prosperity of Geneva ; 
for the production of which in good years, 75,000 oimces of gold, 5,000 marks of silver, 
and precious stones of the value of 1,000,000 of francs, is said to be used. A syndic, 
-vVith a committee of master workmen, is charged by the governnient to inspect every 
article, and zealously to guard against any deterioration of the staple manufactures. 



CHAPTER IV. 

IhKE LEMAN — A VOYAGE ON IT — L4USANNE — ^VEVAY — FESTIVAL OF THE VINE-DRESSEKS — THE 
CASTLE OF CHILLON, AND ITS PRISONEKS — ^VILLENEUVE — FIRST SIGHT OF MONT BLANC — 

^LAKE LEMAN IN A CALM, AND IN A STORM ^PORT DU SEX AND BOVARET MEILLERIE 

BONS ^PASS OF DES ORMONDS BOLTIGEN FREYBURG NEUCHATEL LAKE OF BIENNE. 

The eye is delighted, and various pleasant feelings arise in the bosom, at the sight of the 
blue and placid waters of Lake Leman, extending in the form of a crescent from east 
to west, between Switzerland and SavoJ^ The breadth of this lake, which is one of the 
largest in Europe, is between eight and nine miles in the middle ; but for a space of 




fom-teen miles in length it is called the Little Lake, and, more especially, the Lake of 
Geneva. Its surface, which seldom or never freezes, is 1,150 feet above the sea, but in 
summer it rises .to a still greater height, from the meltings of the Alpine snows. The 
Rhone, coming from the Valais, enters the lake at the south-eastern extremity, where 
the waters are turbid, and issues forth again at Geneva, where they reflect a bright azure 
tinge like that of the Mediterranean. Steam-boats leave Geneva and ViUeneuve at the 
two extremities of the lake twice a day, and make the voyage from one end to the other 
in about five hours. The boats on its blue waters having latine sails, like the craft of 
the Mediterranean, are highly picturesque as they pass along its placid waters. Its 
ample bed receives not only the waters of the Rhone, but those of forty streams. 



25 



The mists were rising from the lake in the distance, and from the low groxmds along 
the shore ; clouds enveloped most of the momitains to the right, but the sky was clear 
overhead ; and on the left the Jiu-a range was resplendent with the rays of the rising 
sun, — when we commenced our voyage on its waters, so perfectly clear and intensely blue. 
The eye speedily discerns the strip of well-cidtivated land which extends on either side 
between the mountains and the lake for about thirty miles. Here and there are slopes 
covered with viaes ; while numerous white mansions, embosomed ia trees, or seated on 
slight eminences, show how many are allured from the turmoil and battle' of Hfe, to seek 
a domicile surroimded" by the grand and beautiful. 

Lausanne, situated at a short distance from the shore of the lake, cro-\vning a steep 




THE CASTLE OF CHILLOX. 



ascent with its cathedi'al and its mossy castle tower, which give it an antique and 
romantic effect, is the capital of the Pays de Vaud. Here it was that Gibbon retired to 
finish his work, the " Decline and Fall of the Roman Empii-e." Not a little elated by 
what he deemed a high compliment of Burke in one of his speeches on the celebrated 
trial of Warren Hastings, he said to a friend who left Westminster Hall with him, 
" Did you observe what Burke said of me r" " Why, what was it ?" was the naive reply. 
The rejoinder was immediate — " The luminous Gibbon ! " But what followed must have 
checked, if it did not turn the tide of feeling : " ! I beg your pardon, Bm-ke said, ' The 
mlmninous Gibbon!'" A hotel occupies the site of the historian's house. The chief 
peculiarity in the cathedral of Lausanne is, that no frsvo of its many cohimns are alike. 



'db SWITZEELAND. 

VeTay is the second town of the Canton of Yaud; it is celebrated for its vines, which 
it is believed were first planted by the Romans, while a stone that has been discovered, 
inscribed " Libero Patri Colliensi," shows that they had reared a temple to Bacchus at 
Collium, now known as the little Aollage of Cnlly, situated on the margin of the lake, 
between Vevay and Lausanne. 

A society of some antiquity exists at Yevay, called " L'Abbaye des Vignerons," which 
takes the significant motto, " Ora et labojra." It is designed to promote the cidture of 
the vine; and with this view, it sends every spring and aiitumn qualified persons ta 
survey all the vineyards of the district, and on theii' testimony, awards medals and 
pruning-hooks as prizes to the most diligent and skilfid of the vine -dressers. 

"La Fete des Vignerons" is celebrated at Yevay once in fifteen or twenty years. 
Tradition ascribes its origia to the fetes of the Athenians in honour' of Ceres and Bacchus. 
The last festival commenced on the 7th of August, 1851, and is estimated to have been 
attended by 40,000 persons. The principal scene was in the market-place; the two 
most successfid of the vine-dressers duriug nine j'ears, were roAvarded -with a crown and 
a medal of honour ; fif fcj' other vine-dressers, who were prosperous during six years, were 
rewarded mth a prize and a medal ; while prizes were also bestowed on those who had been 
successfid dui'ing three years. 

" It seems to be a fact," says Mr. Reach,* " that everybody, every beast, and every 
bii'd, whatever may be liis, her, or its nature in other parts of the world, when brought 
amongst grapes, eats grapes. As for the peasants, their appetite for grapes is perfectly 
preposterous. Unlike the siu'feit-sickened grocers' boys, who, after the first week, loathe 
figs, and turn poorly whenever sugar-candy is hinted at, the love of grapes appears literally 
to grow by what it feeds on. Ereiy garden is fidl of table Aanes. The people eat grapes 
with breakfast, hmch, dinner, and supper.' The laboiu-er plods along the road munching 
a clitster. The child in its mother's arms is hugging away -mth its toothless gums at a 
bleeding bimch ; while as for the vintagers, male and female, in the less important 
plantations, heaven only knows where the masses of grajjes go to which they devour, 
labouruig incessantly at the metier, as they do from dawn till siuiset." 

After leading Yevay, the mountains seem to rise inxmediately from the lake. There is 
indeed only room for a road, and a few houses at the edge of the water ; but the lower 
part has been worked into terraces, and well-stocked Avith vines ; above these are steep 
and apparently ahnost inaccessible pastm-ages, mth their chalets, and still higher are bare 
ragged rocks pointing to the sky. 

About half a mile from the village of Olareus — the residence of Rousseau — we recalled 
the words of Byron :— 

■' And then thel'C was a little isle, 
AVhich ill my very face did smile, 

^ The only one in view ^ 

A small green isle, it seemed no more, 
Scarce broader than my dung-con-floor ; 
But on it there were three small trees, 
And o'er it blew the moimtain breeze, 
'And hy it there were waters flowing, - 
And in it there were young flowers growing. 
Of gentle breath and hue." 



And again: — 



" Lake Leman Hes by Chillon's walls ; 
A thousand feet in depth below 
Its mossy waters meet and flow ; 



" Claret and Olives." 



THE CASTUB OF CHIILON. 37 

Thus muolL tlie fatliom-line was sent 
From Chilion's snow-wMte battlement, 
"^Tiicli round about the wave enthrals : 
A double dungeon wdl and wave 
Have made — and like a living grave, 
Below the sm-faee of the lake 
The dark vault wherein he lay, 
We heard it ripple night and day. 
In Chilion's dimgeons deep and old 
There are some colunuis mossy and grey. 
Dim with a dull imprisoiied ra}^ 
A sunbeam wluch hath lost its way, 
And thi'ough a crevice and the cleft 
Of the tliiok wall is fallen and left, 
Creeping o'er the floor so damp, 
Like a marsh's meteor lamp." 

The castle is built on a flat rock, uear the shore of the lake, from which there is access 
by a wooden bridge. The first view of it we give exhibits it clearly, with Villeneuve, 
and the Dent du Midi in the distance. 

It was in that castle that the Didie of Savoy, the oppressor of the Genevese, iacarcerated 
in its dungeons the champions of their independence, among whom was Francois de 
Boixaivard. Determined to crush the Reformation by a hostile force, his tyranny and 
persecution aroiLsed the assailed to arms. Intent on starving the Genevese into submission, 
bj' stopping their supplies, thej'' boldly fitted out five boats, each one manned with eighty 
soldiers, crossed the lake, and procured provisions, even on his mvn territory. As they 
were afterwards aided by 7,000 Bernese, the duke's position soon became desperate, and 
the last place that held out for him was the Castle of Chillon. It was invested- both by 
land and water, and the imprisoned Swiss heard the cannon of theii- A^ctoiious cormtrjTnen 
battering the walls in which they had long suffered a grievous incarceration, and from 
which they were now to be released. 

In allusion to these circumstances it was that Byron says, in one of his sonnets, — 

" Chillon ! thy prison is a holy place, 
And thy sad floor an altar ; for 'twas trod 
Until lus very steps have left a trace, 
Worn, as if the cold pavement were a sod, 
By Bonnivard ! l^Iay none those marks efiace! ' 
For they appeal from tyi-aimy to' God." 

Bonnivard is said to have laid the foundation of a library at Geneva by the gift of his 
own books and manuscripts ia 1551 ; and is supposed to have died twenty j^ears after 
that date. 

On om- landing at Villeneuve, the breeze enjoyed on the deck of the vessel could not 
be felt, while on us were shining the meridian beams of the sun in July. The hom- and 
half allowed before the return of the steamboat was therefore occupied in sauntering in 
the shade, and smweying the glorious panorama by which we were surroimded. One 
object shoidd, however, be noticed : for a Kttle way up the valley of the Rhone, and 
behind the range of moimtains bounding if on the further side, arose the J)ent du Midi. 
At first it was almost entirely concealed by clouds ; but afterwards they began to move 
lower do-\vn, until at length that vast pile stood out entirely alone, its snow-covered sides 
and peak glittering in the sunbeams, and revealing some of its awful ravines, where sports 

" The avalanche — the thmiderbolt of snow." 
On oiu' return, 

" Once mora' upon the waters,"^ 



SWITZERLAND. 



the sun was beginning its descent towards the western horizon, and the mountains, dull 
and hazy in the morning, were now bright and clear, and where the clouds had retired 
from their summits, they stood out in bold relief against the azure sky. And truly is it a 




THE CASTLE OF CHILI.ON. 



remarkable sight for the traveller from our own land, though one that is frequent here, 
when the heavens above are entii-ely free from the most fragile mist, while around and 
among the mountains, clouds after clouds sweep down the valleys, hover around some 
lofty peak, then soar aloft, assuming fantastic shapes, — sometimes appearing like the 



MOXT BLANC. 



29 



smoke ofmcense as it curls upwards from an altar,— then again descending,— and ulti- 
mately gathering themselves together, and melting into rain on the lands beneath. 

But a spectacle still more wondrous was in reserve. On approaching Geneva, the clouds 
which, during the two days of our sojourn, had hidden from our view the Sovereign of the 
Alps, were now dispersed, and we could exclaim : — 




B\E0\'s HOTLL, ^E4E MLLFM t ^ F 

The suu has sunk behind the blow, 
The giant-height of proud Mont Blanc, 
Gilding its glorious crown of snow, 
With his last beams — whUe all along, 
From peak to peak, each ti-ackless height 
Reflects rich hues of vivid light. 
That o'er Chamouni's valley fall, 
One bright resplendent coronal." 




PORT DU SEX, NE.-iH VILLENEUVE. 



At first Mont Blanc appeared like molten gold— then it was bathed in a flood of roseate 
light, which increased in intensity till the shades of evening drew on, when it faded away 
—and last of all, these brilliant tints were succeeded by a light of dullish grey, which, 
still rendering the eternal ice and snow visible, sent a chilliness through the soul. 



30 - SWITZERLAND. 

The first view of this august panorama is certainly one of the strongest, most expansive, 
and most delicious sensations of human life. Of aU around, the snowy ranges of Mont 
Blanc are the grand featm'e. Those distant peaks, whether arrayed in the hues of evening, 
or cut in dazzling snowy brightness against the clear blue sky, are the only thing in the 
scene that takes a powerful hold upon the soid ; but they do quite possess it, and tyra,nnise 
over it with an ecstatic thraldom : — 

" Wto first beholds these everlasting clouds, 
Seed-tiiae and harvest, morning, noon, and night, 
StUl where they were, steadfast, immoveable ; 
Those mighty hills, so shadowy, so sublime. 
As rather to belong to heaven than earth — 
■ But instantly receives into his soul 
A sense, a feeling, that he loses not, 
A something that informs bim 'tis an hoiu' 
"V^Tience he may date henceforward and for ever ! " 

The voyage of the Lake now performed specially prepares the mind for the appreciation 
of its impressive portraiture by Lord Byron, whose delineations it is exceedingly grateful 
to read within sight of its blue waters. — 

" Clear, placid Leman ! thj' contrasted lake, 
With the wild world I dwell in, is a thing 
Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake 
Earth's troubled waters for a purer sprmg. 
This quiet sail is as a noiseless -wing 
To waft'me fi'om destruction ; once I loved 
Torn ocean's roai', but thy soft mrn'mmiig 
Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved, 
That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved. 

" It is the hush of night, and all between 
Thy margin and the mountains, dusk, yet clear. 
Mellowed, and nunglcd, yet distiuctly seen. 
Save darken'd Jnra, whose capt heights appear' 
Precipitously steep ; and di-awing near. 
There breathes a Hving ft-agrance from the shore. 
Of flowers yet fresh with cliildhood ; on the ear 
Drops the light di-ip of the suspended oar. 
Or chirps the grasshopper one good-night carol more. 

" At intervals, some biid from out the brake. 
Starts into voice a moment, then is still. 
There seems a floatmg whisjier on the hill. 
But that is fancy, — for the starKght dews 
AU silently then- tears of love instil. 
Weeping themselves away." 

Byron, not satisfied with one delineation of Lake Leman, has presented us with a com- 
panion picture, — such an one, indeed, as only a genius rare as his own could so impres- 
sively trace : — 

"Thy sky is changed ! — and such a change ! oh night, 
And storm, and darkness, ye are wondi-ous strong. 
Yet lovely in your strength, as is the hght 
Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along. 
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among 
Leaps the live thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, 
But every moimtaiu now hath found a tongue. 
And Jui'a answers, thi'ough her misty shi'oud. 
Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud ! 



VILLENEUVE. di 

" Now, where the swift Rhone cleaves his way between 
Heights which appear as lovers who have parted 
In hate, whose niining depths so intervene 
-That they can meet no more, though broken-hearted ! 
Though in thcu.-, souls, which thus each other thwarted. 
Love was the very root of the fond rage 
Which bhghted theii- Ufe's bloom, and then departed : 
Itself esphed, but lea^Tng them an age 
Of years all winters, — ^war within themselves to wage. 

" Now, where the quick Rhone thus hath cleft his way. 
The mightiest of the storms hath ta'en his stand ; ^ 
For here, not one, hut many, make then- play. 
And fling theh thunder-bolts fi-om hand to hand, 
Flashing and cast around : of all the band, 
The brightest thi-ough these parted hiUs hath forked 
His lightnings, — as if he did understand. 
That in such gaps as desolation worked, 
There the hot shaft should blast whatever therein lurked. 

" And this is ui the night : — most glorious night ! 

Thou wert not sent for slumber ! let me be 

A sharer in thy fierce and far deUght, — 

A portion of the tempest and of thee ! 

How the ht lake shines, a phosphoric sea, 

And the big rain comes dancing to the earth ! 

And now again 'tis black, — and now, the glee 

Of the loud hill shakes with its moimtain nurth, 
As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's bhth. 

" Sky, mountains, river, winds, lake, hghtniags ! ye ! 
With night, andolouds, and thunder, and a soul 
To make these felt and feelings, well may be 
Things that have made me watchful ; the far ]-(5ll 
Of yom- departing voices, is the Icnoll 
Of what in me is sleepless, — if I rest. 
But where of ye, oh, tempests ! is the goal ? 
Are ye Uke those within the hmnan breast ? 
Or do ye find, at length, like eagles, some high nest ? " 

Poetry, however, glowing as this is, must not carry us away from noticing some other 
objects worthy ovir attention. Let vls now, therefore, retrace our steps to VilleneuTe, a 
small town near the spot where the Rhone flows into the Lake, and consequently at the 
entrance of the Talley of the Rhone. The Rhone is not visible from the village, from 
the alluvial deposit which has been formed there during the lapse of ages, but it colours 
the lake by the mud which it brings from the momitains. Near to Villeneuve are Porte 
de Cex and Boveret, in the valley of the Rhone. At the latter place the rocks to the 
right approach so nearly to the river as scarcely to leave room for a road. It was in this 
neighboui'hood that Byron found, for a time, a place of sojourn ; but his situation was 
comfortless ; " the moimtain palaces" of nature afforded no asylimi to his wi'etched 
spirit. 

Opposite the Castle of ChUlon, on the southern side, are the heights of Meillerie, 
celebrated alike by Rousseau and Byron. At the order of Napoleon, these rocks were 
blasted to form a passage for the splendid road of the Simplon, a part of which passes 
through them at an elevation of thirty or forty feet above the lake. The heights of 
Meillerie shut out the "sdew of the Alps of Savoy, but yield a compensation in their own 
beaut}'. " I had the foi-tune," says Byron, " (good or evil as it might be), to sail from 
Meillerie (where we landed for some time) to St. Gingo, during a late storm, which added 
to the magnificence of all around, although occasionally accompanied by danger to the 



32 



SWITZERIAND. 



boat, which was small and unloaded. It was over this very part of the lake that Rousseau 
has driven the boat of St. Prenx and Madame Wohnar to Meillerie, for shelter diiring a 




EEET ^E'iR "^^LLE^Ll^E 



tempest. On gaming the shore at St. Grmgo, I found that the wind had been sufficiently 
strong to blow down some fine old chestnut-trees on the lower part of the mountain." 




MEILLERIE. 

Close to Meillerie is a roimd tower, La Tour Ronde, the inhabitants of which are the 
peasants that cultivate the siu-rounding country. Beyond MeiUerie on the road to Geneva 
is E^-ian, on the shores of the lake. Passing through this .village, and by the chalybeate 



UES ALLIKGES. 



33 



•waters of Ampliion, over the Drauce, by a bridge of twenty-foui' arches, Thouon is reached, 
which was, origiaally, the capital of the Chablais. To this succeed the ruins of Les 
Allinges ; and the ruins of La Rochette are speedily reached. One of the views now 
given exhibits them on the borders of Lake Leman. 



The next villag 
ich ; " it consists 




' handsome large, and 
himible d-^ellings, and 



having in the midst a church, two weepiag willows, and a corn-market, with five stone 



Still further on the road leading to the canton of Geneva, is the Tower of Langia, 
situated on a mass of projecting rock of the Yoirons range. The country aroimd aboimds 



84 ■ SWITZEKI^UJl). 

in chestnut- trees, and presents an appearance strongly resembling that of the plains of 
Jjombardy. At this ^dllage is the Donane, and just Ijeyond the traveller leaves 8a-\oy, 
and enters the Canton of Geneva. 

Crossing from the valley of the Rhone into the Simmenthal, by the pass of Des Ormonds, 
tUl -within two leagues from Aigle, the road newly made is practicable for carriages. 
Yoii ascend from zigzag to zigzag, on the side of a steep mass of rock, and after consider- 
able toil arrive at Sepay, consisting of two houses and a cabaret, which is the inn. It 
might be supposed that the parish of Aigle, which constructed this noble work, foimd itself 
in the situation of the Roman lord, who, ruined by his staircase, had not sufficient money 
to finish his palace ; but this was not the case, for the road from Vevay to Bulle is so good 
that it is superfluous to take one across the Ormonds. Beyond Sepay there are only 
paths which cross one another. . 

Pirrsiung this road, Combaz is reached ; it consists of tivo or three houses, which 
form the last village met with on this side of the siumnit of the Pass. This valley, 
beginning at Aigle, has but little beauty, no grandem-, and scarcely a trait of the 
picturesque. Bej'ond Combaz, on the stmimits of the Pass, a wearisome monotony 
prevails. There are two green slopes and some scattered chalets. The undisturbed 
silence, the moimtain air, and the perfume of the pasturage, are the only compensation. 
Beyond the pasturages of the Ormonds, descending to the Chateau d'ffix, the traveller 
meets first with fir-trees, then beech and wahiut-trees, and a little path which winds 
along imder their shade. From Chateau A'CEx to Saancn, is a walk of three leagues. 
TVe are now in the A-alley of the Simmenthal, which, if the sites are not remarkable, 
they are at least interesting and A'aried. Beginning especially at the rocks below 
which the Sarine murmm-s in deep abj'sses, bordered with an acbnirably rich and 
vigoroiis vegetation, all the varieties ai'e passed through, from lands highly cultivated 
to those which are unenclosed, wild, and desolate. The most elevated point is above 
Saanen, from whence there is a descent to sites unlike those of the other side. A little 
fiirther on is Boltigen, where the Simmen rushes along in a narrow and tortuous channel, 
encmnbered with rocks which dispute its passage ; not far distant is the wild gorge of 
Wimmis, in which is the biidge, of which we give an engraving. 

Freybirrg, the capital of the canton, is a ver}' romantic city ; part of it is biult on the 
steep slopes of an elevated ridge of sandstone rocks, and part on a plain on the banks of 
the river Saane, or Sarine. Some of the buildings project over an abrupt precipice ; and 
in one place the liouses are below tlie pavement of a street which runs above them. In 
the centre of the toMii, at the bottom of one of the steep streets leading up to the cathedral, 
are two objects worthy of notice — a fountain and a lime-tree. The fountain is a cmious 
but simple monmnent of the 15th century, representing Samson trampling on a lion. The 
Jewish Hercules wears a sword at his side, instead of the jawbone of an ass. The lime- 
tree is both a tsouvenir and a monmnent of the same age ; the following is the tradition 
to which it owes its existence : — At the great battle of Morat against Charles the Rash, 
eighty yoimg men, who had been sent from Freyburg, placed lime-tree twigs in their 
helmets, in order to distinguish one another in the heat of the fray. As soon as the 
conunander of this little corps saw that the battle was won, he despatched one of his 
soldiers to Freyburg to bear the news. The yomig Swiss, like the Greek at Marathon, ran 
the whole way, arrived at the public square, shoutii:^ " victory ! " and waving in his 
hand the branch of the lime-tree which had served him for a plume, fell down and 
immediately expired. It was this branch -(^'hich, carefully jslanted by the inhabitants 
on the sjDot where their compatriot feU, has grown into the huge tree which may now 
be seen. 

Most picturesque is the eflect of the fortifications, consisting of high walls and antique 
towers, and inclosing a circuit of about four miles, in which are roeks, meadows, gardens^ 



FREYBURG. 35 

orchards, and tlie town itself. So curiously situated a place, must necessarilj' have 
irregular streets, manj^ of which are steep ; but the}- are generalh- wide and clean, and 
some of them terminate in agreeable open areas. There are also many public fomitains. 
The cathedral is a very handsome Gothic structure, having a tower 360 feet high — the 
loftiest in Switzerland, and also the finest of its peals of bells. 

Tire splendid Pont dc Fil de Fei; or suspension bridge — the boast of the Frej^bm'gers, — 
is a modern erection. It springs from one abrupt rock to another, over a chasm 900 feet 
in width, and at the elevation of 160 feet above the river Sarine, which flows in the bed of 
this rocky ravine. Thus instead of the steep and dangerous acclivity which long existed, 
Freybiu'g is easily entered and left. The sight of the to-mi from this side, so wild and 
romantic, is likely to leave on the mind of the -^asitor an indelible impres.sion. The solid 
wall of rock, on which rises a congeries of churches, houses, and convents ; the fortifica- 
tions running up and down the precipitous sides of the chasm, as if imwilling to lose a 
single inequality ; the watch-tovrers perched on the crags ; and the lofty and elegant 
tower of the cathedral rising above all — is a spectacle -which can but rarely be witnessed. 

About three miles beyond Freyburg, in the ^^nl([ and tortuous gorge of the Sarine, is the 
hernutage of St. jlagdidcii. Its liistory is as follows : — In 1760, a peasant of Gruj-eres, 
named John Dupre, rcsoh-ed t(j 1)econie a hermit, and to hollow out for himself a hermitage 
such as the fathei'S of the desert never imagined. After haTOig searched about for a long 
time in the suii-ounding comitry for a convenient .spot, he thought that here he had found 
a mass of rock sufficiently solid and, at tlie same time, sufficiently soft, to enable him to 
put his project into execution. This inas^, eroAvncd at the top b)' a number of magnificent 
trees, presents, towards tlie south, a perpL-ndieular face, and lises to the height of ahnost 
'.'1)0 feet above the ^-alley of Gorter^'n, Dupre attacked tliis mass, jiot to hollo\v out a 
shnplc grotto, but to foi'm a complete habitation, ^^-itli all its dependencies, and also 
imposed on him.self the pen.' inco of eating nothing but bi'cad, and drinking nothing but 
water, as long as his labour sliould last. Ilis work ^mis not completed at the end of 
twenty years, when it was terminated by tlic tj-agical death of the poor anchorite. 

The sing^darity of Dupre's vow, the resi.duten.ess with which he tried to accomphsli it, 
and the boldness of this scooping into the inteiior of the momrtain, attracted a great 
number of visitors to the spot ; and as of the tvi'o roads which led thither, that by the 
valley pf Gotteron was the shoi'ter and more picturesque, it was this that the curious 
preferred. Arrived at the foot of the hermitage, it was necessary to cross the Sarine ; but 
Dupre undertook to remove this difiiculty by constructing a boat, and laying down his 
pickaxe and taldng u]) the oar every time that a fresli party wislied to ^-isit the hermitage. 
One day a band of young students came, and in their turn sought the good offices of the 
boatman ; and when they got as far as tlae middle of the liver, one of them, laughing at 
the terror of his comrades, in spite of the hermit's remonstrances, placed his feet on the 
edges of the boat, threw the weight of his body first on one side and then on the other, 
and eventually overturned it. The students, who were young and vigorous, reached the 
bank in spite of the rapid current of the river ; the old man was dro wired, and the 
hermitage remained imfinished. 

In the grotto is a chapel forty feet long, thirty broad, and twenty high, where twice a 
year service is performed by a priest from Frejdiurg, and then this subterranean church, 
reminding one almost of the catacombs at Rome, is filled with a number of villagers from 
the neighboiuliood. Its only riches consist of some wooden benches and images. 
On either side of the altar is a door cut out of the rock, the one leading into the sacristy, 
the other mto the belfry, which inodestty preten_ded not to rise above the level of the 
ground, but only to the smiace. From below it resembles a chunney, and from above, a 
well, and the bell is suspended amid the trees which cro-wn the smnmit of the hill. 
Opposite the altar is another door leading into a chamber, from which -s'ou pass into a 

d2 , 



3&^ 



SWITZEKLAND. 



wood-liouse, a kitchen, a bedi'oom, and a garden. The whole length of this singular 
excavation is 365 feet, and its height fourteen feet. 

Neuchatel, the capital of the Prussian principality, and of the Swiss canton of the 
same name, is one of the most interesting towns in Switzerland. It stands close to the 
lake of Neuchatel, and is watered by the little river Seyon ; in fact, a sort of noisy 
mountain torrent, which rises among the hills of the Jura, in the Yal de Ruz, and after 
a short but impetuous coui'se empties itself into the lake. 

The town, which is of considerable antiquity, is seated partly in the little plain between 
the Jura and the lake, and partly on the declivity of the motmtain, in the midst of a 




THE PEAK OF SALES. 



pleasing country. It has several handsome pubHc buildings, and a pleasant walk by the 
side of the lake. 

The castle, a vast edifice, which used to be the residence of the ancient counts of 
Neuchatel, before the principality passed into the hands of the Prussian sovereign, is the 
most remarkable of the public buildings. It stands firmly, upon a height overlooking 
the town ; the ascent to it is by stone steps, some of which are cut in the solid rock. 
Simond thus pictm'es the view which may be enjoyed from this antique chateau : — 
" The lime-trees in its terrace are very large ; one of them measures eighteen feet in 
circumference, five feet above ground, and nearly double below. Numerous fountains cease- 
lessly pouring their limpid streams into large stone basins, are, besides their convenience 



37 



r, a species of living records of the taste and maimers of past ages, — ^beiag 
generally ornamented with colossal representations of Swiss warriors of the fifteenth century, 
clad in steel, with wasp shapes, and stuffed breasts, bearing on the head diminutive caps, 
which strangely contrast with their vast exuberance of beard and stern countenances." 

The cathedral stands beside the castle. The sepulchral stone of Farel, the reformer, 
appears in front of the edifice. 

A very pleasant excursion may be made by taking the steamer at Neuchatel, and 
proceeding to Yverdun, at the other end of the lake. The scenery along the banks, 
though not equal to that of many other Swiss lakes, presents much to attract the eye ; 
the hills are covered with vines, coimtry houses are seen here and there near the water's 




THE FIZ AND THE COL D'AUTEENE. 



edge, and on the right in the background are the sombre Jxu'a mountains, the natural 
boundary between Switzerland and France. Tverdim was a town in the days of the 
Romans, and was called Ebrodunum. The principal building in the place, which contains 
between 3,000 and 4,000 inhabitants, is the castle, built in the twelfth century, and now 
famous as ha^dng been the residence of Pestalozzi, the founder of the system of instruction 
which bears his name. 

Not far from the Lake of Neuchatel, and miited to it by the river Thiel, is the smaller 
Lake of Bienne. The scenery is here much the same ; but on the western extremity 
many beautifid and interesting views present themselves — particularly those of Jolimont, 



38 SWITZERLAND. 

tiie Chateau Baillival, and the ancient Abbey of Erlach, near the emhouchure of the 
Thiel. 

At this end, too, not far from the shore, is the little island of St. Pierre, which for two 
months served Eousseaii as a place of refiige. The house where he resided has long served 
ds an inn ; and here liis admirers will be gratified by finding everything — particularly his 
room— ill nearly the same state as the philosopher left it. It is surroimded on three 
sides by a piazza level with the ground ; one forms the farm bidldings, the second the 
dwelling house, and the third serves for the accommodation of strangers. A huge walnut- 
tree throws its shade over the whole court. 

The walks through the wood and orchard mth which the island is covered, are 
delightful and refreshing ; and fanned by the cool breath of the lake, aflbrd a delicious 
retreat diu-ing the siunmer solstice. From the eminence in the centre, occupied by an 
elegantly designed temple, the vieAV is strikingly picturesque. The gromid, covered -v^ith 
rich velvet turf, such as bordered the enchanted isle of Calypso, slopes gently towards the 
shore, and contrasts its own bright green with the deep blue of the water in which it is 
embedded. 

Rousseau himself says, in one of his works, "Of all the dwelling-places which I ever 
had — and I have had several — none has rendered me so truly happy, and caused me such 
tender regrets, as the island of St. Pierre in the Lake of Bienne. Oh ! that I coidd go 
and end my days in that dear isle, never again to leave it, nor again to see an inhabitant 
of the continent, to recall to my remembrance the injuries of every kind which they have 
pleased to heap iipon me for so many years." 



CHAPTER V. 

ROUTE FROM GEJfEVA TO CHA3I0UXI BONNEATCIXE CLTJSES GROTTO OF BAXME ^NAST 

d'aRPENAS ST. MARTIN ST. GERVAIS COL DE BONHOMME N.ANT KOIR SERVOZ MONT 

BUET ^.iJfoTHER ROUTE COL d'aUTERNTE THE VALLEY OF CH.\JttOUNI. 

Leaving now the city of Geneva for Cliamouni, at the Port de la Rive, the road offers 
some fine -sdews, including the range of the Jiira. A little stream, the Foron, which is 
crossed, is the boimdary of the canton of Geneva and the Sardinian frontier. Not far 
beyond it is a sugar-loaf moimtain — the Mole — towering to a height of nearly 6,000 feet. 
The eminences which bormd the Ai-ve have a bold aspect, and Bonneville is entered through 
a fine avenue of ebns. It is situated in the midst of a wide and well cidtivated plain, and 
is much better built than most towns in Savoj^ The market-place and main streets are 
A"ery broad, and the houses in the enwons are sm'rounded "with gardens and plantations. 

The vaUeyof the Arve continues wide till near the town of Cluses, where the dark 
limestone rocks advance upon the river, leaTOig only a narrow passage for the road. 
This Kttle town is quite entombed amidst the mormtains. A large nujnber of its inhabit- 
ants are employed iii the manufactme of watch-movements for Geneva and German}^ 
The defile beyond is narrow and winding, presenting some scenes of strildug beautj-. The 
folio-wing engra^-ing exliibits the ruins of Cluses after a fire, which occurred not long ago. 

The Arve, after rising in the Col de Balme, flows rapidly do-rni its steep slope, and 
through the valley of Chamouni, then passing out at the south-western, extremity, 
continues its impetuous coiu'se as far as the Rhone, which it enters a little below Geneva, 
after flowing about sixty miles from its som-ce. Its waters are jDrincipaUy derived 
from the glaciers of Mont Blanc, from which issue the Arveiron and other smaller 
streams, emptying themselves successively into its channel as it flows along in its 
course through the valley. It is very remarkable for the rapidity of its current, which 
is so great, ev;en at the end of its com-se, that its waters do not mingle with those 
of the Rhone for some time after it has entered that river ; it is even said that its 
violence, at times, has been such as to have iinj)eded the course of the Rhone, and to 
have caused the waters of that river to flow back into the lake of Geneva, thus gi^-ing 
to the water-wheels of the mills on its banks, a direction contrary to their usual one. 
Walnut-trees abound on either hand, and on the precipitous momitain sides are small 
forests of beech-trees. At a cottage in the viUage of Balme, a cannon is kept ready 
loaded for those who wish to hear the echoes produced by its report, which, as may be 
supposed, from the narrowness of the valley, are very nmnerous. Here, too, guides are 
provided for those who -wish to visit the Grotto of Balnre, situate in the momitaia, to the 
left of the high road. Its opening may be seen from thence, and resembles the mouth of 
an oven, being semicircular, and about ten feet high by twenty broad. The bottom is 
abnost horizontal. Its depth is about 640 paces, and then it becomes so narrow that it 
is impossible to penetrate further. At 340 paces from the entrance is a verj^ deep weU. 
The walls are covered with stalagmites, stalactites, and very thick crystalisations. Beyond 
Bahiie the valley widens, and spreads' before' the- eye the picturesque beech-groves of 



SWITZERLAND. 



Maghlans, scattered in some meadows of a broken or -waving surface, edging tte Arve, 
wtile enormous rocks of fantastic shape tower on all sides througli tlie foliage. The 
waterfall, called the Nant d' Orli, showers down from one of the rocks. About three 
quarters of a league beyond Maghlans, on the left, is a fine cascade, called the Nant 
d'Arpenas, which is, however, less remarkable for its beauty than its altitude. 

There is a touch of the poet in the description given of it by one who, after gracing 
the bar of England, blends the utmost suavity with the highest dignity of the bench : * 




LA ROCHETTE. 

" The Nant d'Arpenas is the fall of a small rividet, which gushes down unseen from 
fissures of the lofty rock, then, in mid-air, leaps from it, and meeting immediately with 
little projections, is dashed into fine atoms, floats off some 200 feet from the ground in an 
everlasting, yet everchanging, feather ; and, though a jDortion of the water may be caught 
by the lower rock, and may drizzle down it, the body of water actually disperses — makes 
itself ' air into which it vanishes.' It is like a spirit embodied — no ! not embodied — 

* Mr. Justice Talfowd. 



ST. MARTIN. 



41 



shaped, breaking from the rock — ever perishing yet ever renewed — an image of purity, 
evanescence, and duration ! Its substance is as sKght as its identity — the most ethereal 
of all things which in any sense endure — Hght as ' the snowfall in the river' — or a wreath 
of smoke — yet existing as a waterfall for thousands of years — the Ariel of inanimate 
matter ! I gazed upon it till it looked like a speck of gossamer cloud ; and sighed for it 
even while the vale, expanding wider and wider, and becoming grander and grander, 
dazzled me with its luxuriance and brightness." * 

Soon after leaving Bonneville, the clouds had begun to assemble from various quarters, 
the sun had become concealed, and just after coming within sight of this cascade, the rain 




TOWEE OF L.\NGIN. 



descended in torrents. As we were in a covered carriage, we could watch the effects of 
this sudden Alpine shower on the scenery around. The road was speedilj? covered with 
little streams, the torrent was increased in speed and volume, and the Naut d'Ai-penas 
became changed from a white foamy cascade into a dark muddy fall. Wliat must be the 
effect when this continues for several days ! 

In advancing towards Sallenches, the road passes through the lower part of the great 
calcareous formations of Savoy, consisting of a vast thickness of a dark argillaceous lime- 
stone, alternating with thicker beds of grey limestone. Near St. Martin, beds of dark, 



'Vneation Rambles.' 



42 SWITZERLAND. 

bituminous, and argillaceous schist make their appearance under the Aiguille de Varens on 
the left. The river here turns more westwardly, and the valley expands to a great width, 
while Mont Blanc, when disrobed, bursts upon the view, filling up a large space of the 
southern horizon. The Hotel de Mont Blanc, at St. Martin, is a scene of bustle in the 
summer season, as it is frequently made a halting-place for the night for the sake of 
obtaining the celebrated view of Mont Blanc from the bridge over the Arve, just outside 
the village, at sunset and at simrise. In front of the spectator is the pine-clad ridge of 
the Forclas, and rising far above, and apparently not more than three or foiu- miles 
distant, though in reality twelve Tniles as the croAV flies, is the brilliantly white dome of 
the mighty monarch, suiTounded by a nimierous retinue of domes and aiguilles. 

Immediately opposite to St. Martin is the town of Sallenches, situated near a noisy 
torrent, imder an eminence called Mont Rosset, from which a fine \iew is obtained of the 
siuToimding scenery. Not far fi'om hence is the little vaUey of St. Gervais, famous for 
its thermal waters, which were discovered in 1806. It is about half a mile in length, and 
300 yards broad at the entrance, and is shut in on the east, west, and south by lofty perpen- 
dicular rocks : from their summit flows with great violence a torrent of cold water, forming 
in its course a beautiful cascade. On the rocks which overhang the ravine are a few pine- 
trees, which rather add to the melancholy of the scene. The baths situate near the 
cascade have attracted strangers from distant jaarts of Europe by the fame of their 
medicinal virtues. The town of St. Grervais is situated on an eminence at the entrance of 
the mountain valley of Mont Joy, or Jovet. Along the mountain valley there is a mule- 
path that conducts over the Bon Homme and the Col de la Seigue to Com-mayem- in Pied- 
mont, descending imder the southern escarpments of Mont Blanc. 

The passage of the Col de Bon Homme and the valleys leading down to Seez in the 
Tarentaise, were in the line of march of Henri Arnaud and his 800 brethren, on their 
bold and romantic return from the Pays de Vaud, for the glorious recovery of their native 
valleys in the Cottian Alps, in August, 1689. 

On reaching the smnmit of the Pass, a splendid view is enjoyed of the Tarentaise and 
Alps of Savoy, to the south and south-east, and as the path leads higher along the brow 
of the cliff", the spectacle increases in magnificence. From the very base of the rocks on 
which the tourist stands, to the far distant horizon, the whole scene is crowded with 
moimtain ridges and peaks, risiag up and crossiug each other in mid, yet beautiful, 
confusion. As these moimtains are spread out on a low level, they have not the grandeur 
of the Swiss Alps, but they are still indescribably fine. The only indication of the valleys 
that divide the successive ridges of the moimtains is the dark shadows that interpose 
between the brighter peaks that keep the svmshine from them. 

Mr. Latrobe has described this route. After crossing the valley in which Seez lies, he 
entered a ravine, running up for miles into the heart of the mountain, between precipices 
of rocks, A'ast and bare. In about foiu' hours he reached the little cluster of chalets that 
bears the name of Chapiu. The last league and a half of this defile presents one of the 
most marked scenes of that aAvful and mingled devastation, so common among these 
towering inoiuitains, caused by the triple agency of avalanches, the fall of rocks, and 
torrents. A mere track, often scarcely perceptible, led upAvards to the ridge, where a 
pole, fixed in the rock, annomiced to the traveller that he had gained the highest point of 
the Col de Bon Homme, 8,030 feet above the sea. The descent of the mountain to the 
north, is not dangerous, though craggy and broken. After a succession of alternate 
plains and steep declivities, the pedestrian reaches the -sallage of Contamines, at the 
northern foot of the pass.* 

The road from St. Martin to Servoz is nigged, from being cut up by torrents, and the 

' The Alpenstock. 



STOIMIT OF MONT BUET. 43 

aspect of the valley is Tsild and gloonij'. A Roman paved road, considerably above tbe 
present one, "^vas carried along tbe sides of the mountains, the remains of which have 
often been noticed. A village above the road, called Passy, is supposed to be of Roman 
origin, and here many antiquities have been found. The hill on which Passy stands is 
imder the Aiguille de Varens ; it slopes down to the south, is planted with vines and 
other fruit-trees, which, owing to their sheltered situation, flourish here even in the face 
of eternal snows. 

About three miles from St. Martin is the cascade of Chede, near the village of the same 
name. It falls, first, perhaps, forty or fifty feet, in a single stream, from the forest-clad 
moimtain top ;^then di-^ides on each side of a projecting rock ; — then again unites 
gracefullj' in foam, as it is dashed doma a narrow chasm between the crags, till its 
hiu'ried waters collect in the vallej^ below, and pour along, in a bluish stream, to swell 
the coiu'se of the Ai-ve. The cascade, embosomed as it is in the richest foliage, is justly 
admii-ed for its pictiu-esque effect. 

The road is here carried at a considerable height above a deep ravine, through which 
rushes a dark moimtain torrent, and which is partly filled up with masses of rock that 
have fallen from the overhanging momitains, sometimes causing fatal accidents. 

Crossing the wide and deep ravine of the Wani Noir, a dark mountain torrent, the road 
descends to Servoz, situated in a deep part of the valley, once covered by the Lake of 
St. Mechel, which took its name from the castle so called built on an eminence to the 
left. About a centiu-y ago, a moimtain fell here, which kept crumbling to pieces for 
several days in succession, darkening the air with clouds of sandstone and limestone dust- 
A nvmiber of the inhabitants of the valley were imhappiLj^ buried beneath the ruins. 

The toiirist will find much beauty in the Yalley of Servoz, where the Aiwe struggles in 
its rocky bed, and the moimtauis rise immediately from both its banks ; while Mont 
Buet and its offsets seem ahnost to impend liigh over its left bank, and on its right, from 
its margin to the clouds, walnut-trees, orchards, green la-svns, and vineyards, adorn the 
southern slope of the Brevent, beneath which the road is winding. 

A little retii-ed from the "vdllage of Servoz, and where a most in-sating path winds 
upwards thi'ough a rich defile towards Mont Buet, a simple column stands, on which 
the following inscription may be read : — 

TO THE MEMOllY Ol' 

FREDERICK AUGUSTUS ESCHEN, 

Natuiulist, vScholar, aud Poet, 

Born at Eulenen, in the cii-ele of Lower Saxony, swallowed up in a crevasse of the 

Glacier of the B\iet, 19th of Thermidor, in the year 8. 

Recovered from that abyss by 

John M. Devillax, John Claude, aud Bernard, his two sous, and Jolm Otill ; 

Buried in this place by Mr. Deyniar, Prefect. 

This monument raised 21 Fructidor, in the year 9, under the magistracy of 

Buonaparte, Cambaceres, Le Brun, Consuls of the French Republic, 

Department of Lake Leman. 

The smmnit of the Buet is, according to Saussni'e, 10,154 English feet above the level 
of the sea. Here the eye falls on the Aiguille du Midi, and looldng from this fine 
moxmtain smmnit over that of the Brevent, and of the Aiguilles Rouges, Mont Blanc 
appears, if the time be auspicious, and his attendant aiguilles, in all their glory. Seen 
from this elevation, the imperial motmtaia soars far above the eminences of his com-t. 
So numerous, however, are the mountain sunmiits now visible, that to enimierate them 



44 



SWITZERLAND. 



■we must give a catalogue of a considerable portion of the Alps. Beyond the range of 
Mont Blanc, towards the west, far in the Tarentaise, are many undulating snowy 
summits ; through a mountain gap, in another direction, a peep may be obtained of 
Lake Leman ; the Jura range, on the other side of it, is very distinct, nor less so the 




THE BEIDGE OF \IGLE 



suiomits of the Oberland Alps, and all the heights around towards the Simplon. 
Here, too, there is a deeply impressive stillness — ^the voice of the torrent cannot climb 
the Buet. 




THE BEIDGE OF WIMMIS. 



Soon after leaving Servoz, the road crosses the Arve at the bridge called Pont 
Pelissier. This wild and narrow defile forms a truly Alpine approach, while the valley 
of Chamouni presents a romantic appearance. The bottom of it is covered with meadows, 
in the midst of which passes the road, bordered with small palisades. The eye now catches 



COL D'AUTEKNiE. 45 

in succession the different glaciers whicli descend into this valley. At first it can only 
perceive that of Taconnaz, which is almost siispended on the steep slope of a Kttle ravine, 
of -which it occupies the bottom. But very soon the Bossons are observed, descending 
from the summits in the neighbourhood of Mont Blanc ; its ice, of a dazzling whiteness. 




shaped into the images of lofty pyramids, produces an astonishing effect in the midst 
of the pine-forests which they cross and overtop. 

At length, and at a great distance, is seen the great Glacier des Bois, which, in 
descending, bends towards the Valley of Chamoimi. These majestic glaciers, separated 



46 SWITZERLAND. 

by great forests, crowned with granite rocks of an astonishing height, which are cut into 
the shape of large obelisks, and intermingled ^^'ith snow and ice, presents one of the 
grandest and most sLagnlar spectacles which it is possible to imagine. The pm-e and 
fresh air which is breathed, the fine cultivation of the yaUey, the prettj' hamlets which 
appear at every advance, cannot fail, when the weather is fine, to awaken emotions of 
exquisite delight. 

Another route to Chamoimi is along the northern side of the Mole, which forms so 
prominent an object in the landscape at Geneva, then through the valley of Sixt, and 
across the Col d'Auterne to Servoz, and thence by the same road as before to Chamoimi. 
This route, though considerably longer, is more beautifid and grand than the other. The 
valley of Sixt is extremely rich in all that imparts interest to an Alpine valley. 
JSTiunerous cascades leap do^^^l from the mountain sides, clothed with dark forests and 
pasturages, a capital trout stream runs along its entire length ; there are the remains of 
an old monastery, and some mines, with passages running along the perpendicular face 
of the motmtain, and the villages of Samoens and Sixt. But the most attractive objects 
are the magnificent Peak of Sales, of which we annex an engraving, and which is at the 
end of the valley, and foims one extremity of the great -wall, the Montague des Fiz, the 
other extremity being the AiguiUe de Varens ; and the Buet, with its suow-covcred peak 
piercing the clouds. On quitting the valley, the path lies across the rugged and wild 
Col d'Auterne, past a few rude cottages, called Les Chalets des Sales, and amid the 
strangely-formed jDrojeeting rocks which abound in this limestone range. At the siunmit 
a glorious panorama of snowy peaks and verdant -^^aUeys suddenly opens, boimded by tlie 
majestic Mont Blanc. Tliencc a rapid descent brings you to Servoz. 

In glowing terras, yet terms which fell far short of the occasion, Croetho has described 
his approach to the Valle}' of Chamouni. His route vras like that which nniLtitudes have 
taken, and still enjoy — from the city of Geneva. As he advanced, moiintaius and old 
pine forests, either in the hollows below, or on a level mth his track, came out one by one 
before his eye. While on the left were the momitain-pcaks bare and pointed, he felt 
that he and his companions were approaching a mightier and more massive chain of 
moimtauis. Passing over a bed of dry stones and gravel, which the water-courses tear 
down from the sides of the rocks, and, in turn, flow among and fill them up, they 
reached an agreeable valley, shut in by a cii'cular ridge of rocks, in which Kes the little 
village of Servoz. Then the road runs roimd some highly- variegated rocks, and takes 
again the direction towards the Arvc. 

Night was now coming on, and as another ascent was made, the masses became more 
and more imposing. As the Valley of Chamouni was knmediately approached, the 
darlmess grew deeper and deeper, and when at last it was actually entered, nothing but 
the most stupendous piles could be discovered. The stars came out one by one, yet above 
the peaks of the sununit right onwards there was a light, which to the travellers was 
inexplicable. Clear, but without brilliancy, like the MUky-way, yet closer, and some- 
thing like the Pleiades, it rivetted their attention, until at last, as their position 
changed, it became like a pyramid illuminated by a seci'ct light within, which 
coidd best be compared to the gleam of a glow-worm ; — it towered aloft, far above 
the peaks of all the sm'roxinding mountains, and, produced the comdction, which in 
a few minutes was fully established, that it must be the smnmit of the "monarch of 
moimtains." 

Extraordinarj'- indeed was the beauty of this A'iew, for while together -with the stars 
that clustered roimd it, it gliimnered, not with the same twinkling^ light, but a far broader 
and more continuous mass, that peak appeared to belong to a higher sphere, and it was 
difiicidt, in thought, to strike its roots again into the earth. Before it, too, was observable 
p, line of snowy siimmits, sparkling as they rested on the ridges covered with dark pines, 



CHAJVIOUNI. 47 

while below the dark umbrageous forests there ^yere vast glaciers sloping down to the 
valleJ^ The fact is singular, j^et indisputable, that not until long after the surrounding 
countries had been ransacked for the picturesque, this valley — unfolding its beauties and 
sublimities at the base of the loftiest moimtain in Em-ope — actuallj' became disclosed 
to the Adew of the world. Absolutely regarded only as a den of banditti, the refuge of a 
barbarous race — it was only so reeentlj'- as the year 1741, that two Englishmen, Messrs. 
Pococke and Wyndham, determined to explore it. 'No sooner was their piirpose known, 
than their temerity subjected them to violent censure, and when tlieu- friends were imable 
to divert them from their object, thejr were earnestly counselled to be on their guard 
during every step of an enterprise which was imiversally considered to be imminently 
perilous. Strange to say, the noble elevations of the neighbom'hood were then Imown 
only as the "Montagues Maiidifes," the " Cursed Mountains ;" scadi the travellers, -with their 
servants, on setting out from Geneva, were armed to the verj^ teeth. Even when they 
reached Chamomii, so far did they yield to the representations made to them, that they 
did not enter into any dwelling in the vaUey, but encamped imder tents, keeping up fires 
and a watch hj sentinels throughout the night. 

It is difficult now to realise such apprehensions ; bivt though, at the period referred to, 
the Yalley of Chamomii had not only been inhabited, but had maintained a commmiication 
■with the neighbom-ing districts for 6-50 years, yet it might have remained imluio-wii much 
longer than it did, but for the expedition of these adventurous travellers. On their 
memory rests the honour of first disclosing its true charactei-. The celebrated Saussure 
was the next -sT-sitor who contributed to make it laiown. He arrived at Chamoimi at the 
close of Marcli, 1764 ; and of the difficulties he had to encoimter some idea may be formed 
when it is kno^-sai that snow covered the whole A'alley, varjang in depth from a foot and 
a half to twehe feet, that though the heat of the sim softened the snow during the day, 
yet it froze again ia the night so firmlj-, that the feet of the laden mules, as they passed 
over it, scarcely left a trace on its siu-face. 

Chamouni is supposed to derive its name from two Latin words, occurring in a deed of 
gift from Coimt Ajonon of Geneva to a convent of Benedictines, which he founded towards 
the close of the eleventh century, and aroimd which a village was gradually formed. 
The Latin words are Campus Munitus, or " fortified field," in allusion to the lofty 
moimtains and inaccessible aiguilles which on all sides surrovuid the valley as a natural 
defence. To arrive, however, at the literal word, Chamomii, the Latin words must be 
translated into French, or into the patois of the country, and their signification will prove 
equally good, campus becoming champ, and munitus, muni. The term Prieure or Priory 
was generally used until the year 1330 ; but at that time the few cottages surrounding 
the monastic building assumed the name of Chamouni. 

"Words fail to do justice to the scene it unfolds to the eye. Everjr visitor, however, 
may adopt the language of the poet :* — " Before me lay the v/hole panorama of the Alps; 
the pine forests standing dark and solemn at the base of the mountains ; half way up was 
the veil of mist ; above me rose the snowy suimnits and the sharp needles of rock,- which 
seemed to float in the air like a fair)- world. There the glaciers stood on either side, 
-ndndiug down through the mountain ra-\-ines ; and high above all rose the white dome-like 
summit of Mont Blanc. And ever and anon, through the shroud of mist, came the awful 
sound of the avalanche, and a continual roar as of the -wind through a forest of pines. 
Then the hiists began to pass away, and it seemed as if the whole firmament were roUiug 
together." 

The white frosts occurring in Midsummer, and the bre-sHity of that season, forbid trees 
v.'hich are at all delicate from flourishing at Chamomii. No cultivated fruit-trees are 

* Loiin-fello-n-. 



48 



SWITZERLAND. 



there ; for the apple, the cherry, and the plum-trees that grow there, are all of Avilcl sorts. 
The attempts that have been made to introduce grafted-trees have never succeeded ; for 




SUSPENSION BRIDGE AT FBEYBUKG. 



though they throw out hue shoots in the course of the summer, yet for want of its 
continued influence, the wood has not time to attain the matmity, or acquire the 




ISLAND OF ST. PETER, LAKE OF BIENNE,, 



consistence, that is needed to resist the frost, so that the young 
winter. 



aU perish in the 



CHAMOUNI. 49 

Sucli effects might be anticipated from the recollection that the Valley of Chamouni is 
more than 3,000 feet above the level of the sea ; and as it is encii'cled by lofty mountains, 
its climate must be cold. Even dm-ing the summer mornings the thermometer is several 
degrees below the freezing point ; while in the height of the season, though the weather 




is often hot, there are many days in which the visitor will find a fii-e not only genial, 
but absolutely necessary. The winter, which begins in October, does not terminate tiU 
May, and throughout the interval the ground is generally covered with snow, to the depth, 
in some parts, of three, and in others of twelve, feet. Meanwhile the inhabitants Kve Hke 
isolated beings, occupying one of the nooks of the world from which aU others are excluded, 



50 - SWITZERLAND. 

and subsisting, like luultitiides of inferior beings during their season of hybernation, on 
the stores they had pre^aoiisly laid up. 

Chamouni has a sHghtly undulating surface, covered with fields of hay and corn, 
intersected by numerous torrents which rush, with great velocity, down the moimtain- 
sides, and often do considerable damage by overflowing the land, and carrjdng away alike 
its trees and produce. Some idea of their destructive force may be gained from the 
channel they have formed for themselves, filled as it is Avith large rounded masses of rock 
and stone. All these go to sweli the volunie of the Arve, which runs through the whole 
length of the yalley. 

It is inclosed on the riorth b)' a cliaiu of mountains, lisiiig very abruptly from its 
siu'face, and which, during the sunrnuT, arc scldoia, if c-vov, covered with snow. Another 
boundary is the great range of Mont Blanc, ivhilc fi'>c iiiiuiense glaciers obtrude them- 
selves on the valley. The sides of the mountains arc parti}' covered with pasturages, 
and partly with dark pine f(3rests, and above them arc masses of snow, with sharp and 
bare aiguilles of granite, A\diich inspire emotions of profound awe, as the world is felt 
to be shut out. And it ma)' be well to add, that the appearance of the smnmit of Mont 
Elanc loses a poi'tion of its gi'a)ideur, in consequence of its proxiinity, and of the surround- 
ing pealcs and domes rivalling it apparently in latitude and sublimity. Scattered over 
the valley and some of tlie ueighbouring heights, are rude chalets, in which the ha}' and 
other produce of the fields are stored up for the winter-food of the cows and goats, which 
here, as in other of the Savo}' and Swiss valleys, ai'o very numerous. 

Coleridge, with unrivalled majesty and sublimit)', has thus celebrrded the sunrise in the 
Valley of Chamouni : — 

" Hast tliou a eliann to stay llic moniiag' star 
In his steep coiu'sc ? So long he seems to pause 
On thy bald awful Ijcad, O so-\Tan Blanc ! 
The Arve and Arvciron at thy base 
Kavc ceaselessly ; but thou, most awful Form ! 
Kiscst from forth thy silent sea of pines, 
How silently ! Around thee and above 
Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, 
An ebon mass ; metliinl-cs thou pierccst it, 
As with a wedge ! But when I look again, 
It is tliine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, 
Thj' habitation from eternity ! 

dread and silent Mount ! I gazed upon thee, 
Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, 

Didst vanish from my thoiight : entranced in prayer 

1 worsliipped tlic Invisible alone. 

Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, 

So sweet, we know not 'we are listening to il. 

Thou, the mcanwliilc, was't blending witlr my thought. 

Yea, with mj' life and life's own secret joy : 

T'ill the dilating soul, enrapt, transfused. 

Into the mighty vision passing — there 

As in her iiatru'al form, swelled vast to hea\ en ! 

Awake, my soul ! not only passive praise 

Thou owcst ! not alone these swelling tears, 

^lute thanks and secret ecstasy 1 Awake, 

Voice of sweet song ! Awake, my heart, awake ! 

Green vales and icy cliffs all join my Hymn. 

Thou first and chief, sole sovran of the vale ! 

O struggling with the darkness all the niglrt. 

And visited all night by troops of stars, 

Or when they cUmb the sky or when they sinli : 



CHAHOUJS'I. q1 

Companion of the moi-niiig star at dawn, 

Thyself earth's rosy star, and of the dawn 

Co-herald : wake, O wake, and utter praise ! 

Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in earth ? 

"Who filled thy countenance mth rosy light ? 

"Who made thee parent of perpetual streams ? 

And you, ye fii'e-wild torrents fiercely clad ! 

"Who called you forth fi-om night and utter death, 

From dark and icy caverns called you forth, 

Down those precipitous, black, jagged rocks, 

For ever shattered and the same for ever ! 

"Wlio gave you yom- imidnerable life, 

Your strength, yoiu- speed, yom- fury, and your joy, 

"Unceasing tlumder and eternal foam ? 

And who commanded (and the silence came,) 

Here let the billows stiffen and have rest ? 

Ye ice-falls ! ye that form the mountain's brow, 

Adown enormous ravines slope amain — 

Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, 

And stojjped at once amidst their maddest plunge ! 

Motionless torrents ! silent cataracts ! 

"Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven, 

Beneath the keen full moon ? "^Fho bade the sim 

Clothe you mth rainbows ? AVho, with living flowers 

Of lovehest blue, spread garlands at your feet ? — 

God ! lot the torrents, like a shout of nations. 

Answer ! and let the ice-plains echo, God ! 

God ! sing ye meadow-streams with gladsome voice ! 

Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds ! 

And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow, 

And ill then- perilous fall shall thmider, God ! 

Ye lining flowers that sku't the eternal frost ! 

Ye wild goats sporting round the eagle's nest ! 

Ye eagles, playmates of the moxmtain storm ! 

Ye lightnings, the di-cad arrows of the clouds ! 

Ye signs and wonders of the element ! 

Utter forth God, and fiU the hills with praise ! 

Thou, too, hoar jMount ! with thy sky-pomting peaks, 

Oft from whose feet the avalanche, miheard, 

Shoots downwards, glittering thi-ough the piu'e serene 

Into the depth of clouds, that veil thy breast — 

Thou too again, stupendous moimtain ! thou, 

That as I raise my head, awliilc bowed low 

In adoration, upward fr'om thy base 

Slow travelUng mth dim ej-es suffused with tears. 

Solemnly seemest, like a vapoury cloud. 

To rise before me — rise, O ever rise, 

Eisc a cloud of incense, from the earth I 

Thou kingly spirit throned among the lulls. 

Thou di-ead ambassador from earth to heaven. 

Great liierarch ! tell thou the silent sky. 

And tell the stars, and tell yon rising sun. 

Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God ! " 

Tlie tiouses of Chamouni are strangely liuddled togetlier, and tlie streets, if so they may 
be called, are narrow and ill-paved. Of tlie comfort and clean lin ess of their inhabitants 
but little can be said. Their condition is like that of people' generally, where, as in this 
valley, - crosses and gaudj^ shrines are to be seen at the corners of every road. The 
A-illagers make common cause with their animals, and appear to be satisfied if they can 
obtain a tolerable quantity of hav, and a sufiiciency of black, sour, rye-bread. 

E 2 



52 



SWITZERLAND. 



On the rising ground overlooking Chamouni is a church of rather imposing appearance. 
There are shops abounding with carvings of the cottages and animals of Switzerland, 
book-knives, needle-cases, and other indescribable articles ; and where the traveller may 
purchase one of unquestionable utility in cHmbing and descending mountains, — an 




Alpenstock, — a pole, in fact, six feet in length, with an iron spike at one end, while the 
other is sometimes ornamented with the horn of a chamois. Chamouni has five large 
hotels, where the conxforts of Hfe may be readily obtained. And truly they are needed ; 
for the valley presents in summer a bustling scene, and ever and anon are visitors arriving 




CHAU-A-BANC. 



with their guides and porters, mules and char-a-bancs from Geneva and Martigny, and 
from the Brevent, the Jardin, the Flegere, and other " lions " of the neighbom-hood. 

In addition to the villages gathered about the Priory, there are several others in the 
alley, as Les Ouches, Les Bossons, Les Pres, Les Bois, Les Tines, Argentiere, and La 
Tour. Some of these take their, names from the neighbouring glaciers. 



CHAMOTJNI. 



53 



An interesting and very remarkable group is formed of tlie gviides ; and those in 
Chamouni are regarded as the best in all Switzerland. They are iinder the direction of a 




TOURISTS AND GUIDES. 



chief, who is applied to when the services of any are required. They are robust, hardy, 
energetic, and sagacious, most of them cheerful and good-himioured, and enthusiastically 




Ci-SCADE DES PELERINS, 



devoted to their employment. Of course there are varieties of character, as well as degrees 
of intelligence. The law of Sardinia keeps them under a strict system, determining not 



54 SWITZERLAND. 

only their time of apprenticeship, but the prices they shall charge for the different 
excursions they take. They remind the traveller of the old seamen who work the yessel 
in his voyage, or the old stage-coachmen, especially those accustomed to drive long 
distances, in his former journeys in England. Some of them know every nook and 
cranny of the mountains, every aspect of the weather, every prophecy of storms, the 
paths of the avalanche, aud many other things only acquired as the result of much 
observation and experience. 

It is pleasing to state that they do not promise fair weather when it will be otherwise, 
for the sake of employment. JSTor are they the Imnpish, insensible hii'eliugs, which are 
sometimes found necessary in foreign travel. A guide provides for himself, carries the 
knapsack of his master, though it may weigh thirty or forty poimds, for six francs a day, 
with right good avlU, and throws into his service a thousand free and good-natured civili- 
ties, which are not imfrequentlj^ of special value, and ought to be duly appreciated. 
There are certain kindly looks, and words too, which will specially di'aw him out, and 
place all his knowledge, whatever it may be, at the disposal of the party he accompanies. 

Of all the animals of this country, the one with which the traveller most frequently 
becomes specially acquainted is the nude. Manj^ a one has been borne by a creatiu-e of 
this species to a spot, which all his pedestrian power would have failed to reach ; among 
whom may be numbered the ladies of this and other lands. And most wary is this animal 
in his movements : — 

" Shiumiiig the loose stones on tlie precipice- 
Snorting suspicion — wliilc with the sight, smell, touch, 
Trying, detecting, where the surface smiled ; , 

And mth deliberate corn-age, sliding down, 
Where, in his sledge, the Laplander had turned 
With looks aghast." * 

It is not likely, however, that a very timid traveller should be soothed by finding that 
the mules always keep on the very verge of precipices, so that, generally, there is no 
room for the guides to walk on the side on which protection is felt to be needed. This 
habit has been said to be acquired from the mides being employed to carry barrels 
of Avine from spot to spot ; and hence, to avoid interruption in their coiu'se, they keep as 
far as the road will aUoAV, from the rugged walls of projecting I'ocks along which they 
have to pass. But the sagacity of the animals is still greater ; for were they to keep 
near the projecting rocks, and then to fall, they, with their burdens — ^burdens often of 
precious human life — woidd be instantly hurled into the deep and yawning gidf, along the 
side of which, by means of a narrow ledge, they are making their wajr. But as it is, if 
they slip, they throw themselves in-^-ards, and themselves and their burdens are alike 
secure. 

One of the most amazing objects in the whole Valley of Cliamouni, is the soiu'ce of the 
Arveiron, to which a delightful walk may be made from the Priory, through some fine 
meadows and a superb forest. Let the imagination conceive of a deep cavern, the 
entrance to which is an arch of ice, more than 100 feet high, and of a prodigious width _ 
a cavern cut by the hand of nature in the middle of an enormous block of ice, which, by' 
the play of the light, seems here white and opaque, like snow, and there transparent and 
green, like aqua-marine. From the bottom of this cavern, a river rushes impetuously, 
white with foam, and oftentimes rolling in its waves vast rocks of ice. Raising the eyes 
above this vault, there appears an immense glacier crowned with pyramids of ice, from 
the midst of which rises the obelisk of the I)ru, its summit ahnost lost in the clouds ; 
while around are the beautiful forests of the MontanA'ert and the Aiguille du Buchard, 



CILiMOtTNI. 55 

which rise with the glacier until its summit is confouaidecl with the sky. The spot from 
.which this prospect is seen is extremely wild, the glacier formerly extending further into 
the Talley, and in retreating, has left large masses of stone and sand devoid of verdure. 

There is a great danger in entering this cavern, as large fragments are constantly 
falling from the roof. A young man who visited this spot -with a party was so imprudent, 
as, in opposition to the advice of the guides, to fire a pistol, iai order to see what results 
would arise. The concussion detached from the roof of the cavern a huge mass of ice, the 
fragments of which for a few minutes arrested the escape of the stream ; but at length 
the acciunulated waters burst through the barrier with a loud noise, and swept along with 
it the fragments of ice. The party had placed themselves, as they supposed, in security 
on a small island, but the young man lost his life, and his father had his legs broken. 

Saussure observed a great horizontal crevice in the arch, cut at each extremity by a 
vertical cleft, and he did not fail to apprehend that the whole mass marked by these 
crevices would soon be detached. His conjectiu-e was speedily realised. That very night 
a noise was heard resembling a thunder-clap ; the fragment that had fallen was the key 
of the vaulted roof ; its descent had occasioned that of the whole of the external portion 
of the arch ; this mass of ice suspended for some moments the course of the Arveiron ; 
its waters accimiulated in the bottom of the cavern, and then all at once breaking down 
this dyke, carried away with violence vast blocks of ice, dashed them against the rocks 
with which the bed of the torrent is strewn, and bore off large fragments to a con- 
siderable distance. 

The Cascade des Pelerins is one of the singular and beautiful spectacles presented by 
the YaUey of Chamomii. A torrent, issiiing from the Glacier des Pelerins, and high up 
the mountain, descends by a succession of leaps into a deep gorge, dashing from precipice 
to precipice almost in one continued cataract, meanwhile " collecting its utmost force 
for its last magnificent plunge and recoil of beaut5^ Springing in one round condensed 
column out of the gorge over a perpendicular clifi", it strikes at its fall, with its whole 
body of water, into a sort of vertical rock basin, which one woxdd suppose its prodigious 
velocity and weight would split into a thousand pieces ; but the whole" cataract, thus 
arrested at once, suddenly reboimds, in a parabolic arch, at least sixty feet into the air, 
and then, having made this splendid aerial curvature, it falls into the natiu-al channel 
below. The efiect is indescribably beautiful." 

On the north-western side of the valley, immediately above the village of Chamouni> , 
and opposite to Mont Blanc, is Mont Brevent. At the base it is connected with the 
Aiguilles Eoiiges, which form another portion of the boimdary of the valley on that 
side. Its summit is isolated and bare, presenting a perpendiciilar appearance on the side 
towards Chamoimi, but being rounded off on the opposite side. Saussure describes it, 
however, as in every respect one of the most interesting to a naturalist. The ascent to 
its upper part is one of the most regular excursions made by the visitors to Chamouni ; 
some contenting themselves with climbing only a portion of the way, but reaching a 
point from whence the view is as fine as from the siumnit. 

" The view here," says Simond, " is a most extraordinary one. Placed full in front, 
and about mid height of Mont Blanc, and, therefore, at equal distances between the 
summit and the base — sufficiently far to embrace the whole at one glance, sufiicientty 
near to distinguish every detail — we saw this stupendous object like a full-length picture 
hung up there for our pleasure and information ; when we began to ascend the Brevent, 
and half-way up to its chalet, we could not turn round and look at Mont Blanc without 
experiencing the terrific sensation of its falling upon us. Several of our party made use 
of this expression, at the same time averting their eyes in terror ; which shows how 
strong and general the impression was, but as we ascended higher it ceased." 

The description of the scene given by Saussure contains more detail : — " You discover 



SWITZERLAND. 



all at once, aud almost in a single picture, the six glaciers ■wMcli seem about to pour into 
tlie Valley of Ohamoum, — the inaccessible summits between which they have their birth 
— ^the Mont Blanc above all, which is found to be so much the more grand, and so mvich 




GROTTO OF BALME. 



the more majestic, as it is observed from a greater height. You perceive these immense 
surfaces of snow and ice, whose glare, in spite of their distance, can with difficulty be 
withstood ; and yon see stretching out from them those beautiful glaciers, like solid 




INTERIOE OF THE GEOTTO OF BALME. 



rivers, descending in tortuous windings between large forests of pine to the bottom of the 
vaUey. The eye, wearied with the glare of snow and ice, rests with delight on these 
forests, whose deep green contrasts with the whiteness of the icy streams which traverse 



MONT BLANC. 



57 



tliem, or upon the smiling and fertile valley below, which is watered by streams descending 
from these glaciers." 

Those who visit Chamoimi merely on an excursion from Geneva, and entering the 
valley at the south-western end, return the same way, generally ascend the Col de 




Balme, in order to enjoy the splendid view it affords. The height of this pass is about 
7,200 feet above the level of the sea ; the moimtain on its sides rises to a still greater 
elevation, the height of the loftiest point of the boundary between Switzerland and 
Savoy at this point is said to be 7,552 feet. Above the valley the Col rises nearly 4,000 
feet ; and the prospect that stretches before the eye is astonishing and delightful. 



58 SWITZERLAND. 

Looking to the west, Mont Blanc is seen in profile, from its summit to its base, and 
its different parts rise above eacb other in their just proportions. Wearer, and in the 
same range, are seen the summits of the principal Aiguilles, these moimtain peaks rising 
from 11,000 to 13,000 feet above the level of the sea, and in any other situation woiild 
be regarded with astonishment ; but the effect of their amazing height is diminished by 
the outpeering magnitude and elevation of 

" The monaix-li of moimtaius." 

A lower range of moimtains, called, from their red colour, the Aiguilles Rouges, are seen 
on the north side of the valley. Beyond these is Mont Brevent ; and nearer, on the 
north-west, rise the mountains of the Valorsine. The Valley of Chamouni is seen from 
one end to the other, ^ivith the Arve meandering along it. The Col de Balme closes the 
eastern end of the vallej^ ; and the western extremity is shut in by another momrtain. 

The scene from this eminence is thus vividly pictured by Dr. Barry : " The ascent 
from Martigny, in the valley of tlie Ehone, was very steep. ISTothing was seen, 
advanciiag towai'ds the top, besides the rocks that formed it. When suddenly there 
upheaved itself a scene of Alpine iiiagnificence, long imapproachable and overwhelming; 
an amazing picture, which the eye knew not how to scan, enchaining the beholder, lost in 
an astonished gaze. The prodigies of nature piled up there, cast other, even Alpine 
splendoiu", far into the shade. A thousand towering, dark, and savage peaks, lightning- 
riven battlements, at whose bases, hardened and heaped up, great depths of ice, bidding 
defiance- to the simbeams ; and glaciers, winding many a league downwards through their 
own I'avines, like belts of brightness ' flung over a region ' black with pines. Beneath 
that heaven-high wall of fro"wning rock and chilling ice, bordering upon the barrier of 
permanent congelation, and like an oasis in a wilderness of frost, was the green vale of 
Chamouni, smiling with rural beauty and the abodes of man ; the river Arve rising at 
ni)'- feet, and -winding its sihei-y way thi-ongli the meadows of that vale. 

"But for these scenes of softer beauty, the eye ^Yas paralysed; it saw them not save 
in so far as they made, by contrast, the ic)' regions towering above them more arctic, 
chill, and awfully sublime. To these, the eye, spell-bound, ever returned ; and yet the 
one great sorcerer of the mighty scene remains mxnamed. Surroimded by these 
rugged heights of rocks, these battlements towering 9,000 feet and more above the 
valley — so vertical that snow rests not upon their sides — there rose, far higher than 
them all, a snowy pyramid, in proud supremacy, j-et placid and serene. It was ' the 
father of the i\lps,' Mont Blanc hhnself, enthroned among and guarded bj^ his dailc 
aiguilles." 

Aroused at an early hour in the morning by the tinkling of many bells, we had a 
sight from the -nToidow of a flock of goats, each one provided with a bell, just starting 
for the mountains, and at the same time, a pleasant recollection that we had projected a 
similar trijj ; with, however the drawback, that in our j)arty there was not even one 
bc/Jc 

Saussure's first attempt to cross the Mer de Glace, was attended by no ordinary peril ; 
sometimes he had to slide down to the bottom of little ice-valleys, the inteiwals of those 
moimtain- waves, which look like small undulations from the Montanvert, and then to 
climb out of them on the opposite side, with immense labour and fatigue. At other 
times, when he came to crerasses, which were very "s^dde and deep, he had to pass them 
on very narrow ridges of ice, extending across from the one side to the other. 

" The good Pierre Simon, my first guide in the Alps," he says, " repented strongly of 
having let me engage in the imdertaking. He went about here and there, seeking the 
least dangerous passages, cutting steps in the ice, offering me a hand whenever he could, 
and gi^dng me at the same time, the first lessons in the art, for it is one, of putting 



IMER DE GLACE. 59 

down the feet and resting the body properly, and of making use of one's baton, in 
diiEcult passages. I escaped, however, without other injury than a few contusionSj which' 
I got in sHdiug down some very steep slopes of ice, which we had to descend. Pierre 
Simon slid down, standing upright on his feet, his body thrown back and leaning on his 
iron-shod baton." This mode of descending a decliTity of ice or snow is much more 
difficult than it woidd seem to be at first sight ; the guides, however, practise it with 
wonderfid dexterity, sliding down slopes which are frightfully steep, accelerating, retard- 
ing, and even altogether stopping their course at pleasure, merely by pressing the sharp 
-points of their batons into the ice the requisite depth. 

The rocks opposite to the Montanvert afforded, at the period of Saussure's visit, 
scanty pastures for cattle, conducted across the Mer de Grlace, at the commencement of 
the summer season, with a number of heifers, and one or two milch cows, for the support 
of the herdsman. The one Saussure saw was an old man with a long beard, clothed in 
a calf's skin, with the hair still on its outside. " He had an air as wild as the place in 
which he dwelt ; he was much astonished to see a stranger, and I believe," says Saussure, 
" I was really the first from whom he had received a visit. I should have wished 
to leave him an agreeable recollection of the visit ; but he only wanted some tobacco— 
I had none, and the money which I gave him did not seem to aflbrd him much pleasure." 

In following the steps of this eminent man, our path, for about half a mile, lay along 
the middle of the valley, and then, suddenly turiring to the right, the Arveiron is 
crossed by a rustic bridge, and the visitor arrives at the foot of the mountain. If mides 
are not engaged, as they may be, on the service, and a pedestrian trip is encoimtered, 
the ascent now commences iu right good earnest, passing two or three cottages, from 
which children eagerly rush out, only intent on the sale of milk, cherries, strawberries, 
or cream. Clambering zealously over rocks, stones, and roots of trees, now veering to 
the right, and then to the left, a tempting path appears a long way above ; but, gentle 
reader, should you ever be allm-ed to try it, in the hope of esca^nng the windings j^ou 
dread, it may be well to apprize you, that, as in many a promising commercial specu- 
lation you can only come out of it ^^dth " dirty hands," so this is generally the restilt of 
such an experiment ; while, as to " a dividend," you merely gain a loss in great additional 
fatigue. 

" The furthest way about is the nearest way home," is an adage often applicable with 
advantage on the mountains, and here it will be well to act upon it. After attaining a 
considerable height, the dark shade of a small pine fqjest will not fail to be enjoyed 
before it is passed through, slioidd the day be bright and sunny, as it was when we made 
the ascent. But onward and upward we must soon go, over torrents too, by means of 
planks, which the next storm wiU wash away, and through cnws or channels, down which 
during winter the avalanches rush. Trees cut dowii in these moimtain-forests and 
stripped of their bark, will be observed here and there, waiting to be sent sliding down 
some smooth precipice into the valley, .and often into a river or torrent, that they may 
thence be floated to their destination ; while, in strildng contrast, and in the neighbour- 
hood of the glacier,- — the contrast of the living and the dead, — the rhododendi'on, with its 
deep-pink flowers, but much smaller than those in England, is floiu'ishing in great 
luxiu'iance. After a. toilsome ascent of two or three hoiu-s, we reached Montanvert, the 
" Green Mountain," a pasturage, in fact, elevated more than 2,600 feet above the Valley 
of Ohamouni, and consequently 6000 feet above the level of the sea. It is at the foot of 
the Aiguille de Charmoz, and woidd be worthy a visit from the magnificent view it 
affords of the immense Griacier des Bois. But there is another reward for the traveller. 
For, as in making the ascent, he may descry far beneath the YaUey of Chamoimi, — the 
Arve meandering throughout its length, — and a crowd of villages and hamlets, 
surrounded by trees and well cultivated fields, — so, the instant he reaches the summit, 



SWITZERIAITO. 



the entire scene is changed, and instead of the smiling and fertile valley, he stands almost 
at the edge of a precipice, the bottom of which is a Talley — a yalley of snow and ice, 




bounded by colossal moimtaias, which fill the mind with astonishment in the survey of 
their attitude and shape, if there be no terror at their steepness and sterility. 

It is, in fact, the upper part of that enormous glacier, of which the lower part sloping 



MER DE GLACE. 61 

downward into the valley, is called the Glacier des Bois, whicL. bears the well-known 
name of the Mer de Grlace. But who shall adequately describe that spectacle ! 

" Wave upon wave ! as if a foamiiig ocean, 
By boisterous winds to fierce rebellion driven, 
Heard in its wildest moments of commotion. 
And stood congealed at the command of Heaven ! 
Its frantic billows cbained at their explosion, 
And fixed in sculpture ! here, to caverns driven ; 
There, petrified to crystal — at His nod 
Who raised the Alps an altar to their God." 

Such a sight woidd be impressive even on a contracted scale, what is it then, when the 
sloping valley extends seven or eight miles in length ! One end descends to the verdant 
valley of Chamotmi, from a point at which the cottages are mere specks, and the inha- 
bitants scarcely to be perceived ; the other stretches far away into the regions of eternal 
ice and snow ; while on the other side, are the bluff, bare mountain-masses and jagged 
peaks of granite, towering to an elevation of from 6,000 to 8,000 feet ! 

But let us descend the steep path, and even amidst the effulgence of a Jidy day, walk on 
ice. The inequalities of the surface, iadeed, seem like the rounded imdidations of the 
sea ; but if the middle of the glacier be reached, these waves appear momitains, with 
valleys intervening. The colour of the ice on the surfaces is a dull white, attributable 
partly to the snow which frequently falls on, and becomes congealed with it, and partly 
to the earthy fragments with which it is covered, and which are probably thrown up from 
below. But in the huge crcrasses, at the sight of which we instinctively shudder, the 
colour is ultra-marine. Then other surprising objects meet the view ; as brooks of fresh 
water, flowing in canals of ice, and precipitating themselves in cascades down the vast 
abysses, and walls of loose rocks, stones, and earth, on each side of the glaciers, as if to 
bomid the domain where some ISTeptime of the icy regions holds his court. But hark ! 
what are those rolling, echoing, thimderuig sounds, whicli might well herald the advance 
of his snowy chariot ? They are the voices of the avalanches hm-rying onwards ui their 
com-se. And if you listen again, you may catch the roar of the mountain torrents, as 
they rush down the precipices from the regions far above, into the abysses beneath, where 
they unite with the waters of the glacier, and issue forth from a cave as the river 
Arveiron ! 

On the Mer de Glace is a granite rock, called the Eocher des Anglais, which bears the 
name of our countrymen who first visited the valley of Chamouni, Windham and 
Pococke. The small room erected as a kind of refectory for travellers, has a visitor's 
book, containing the names of persons of abnost all nations and all ranks, from Josephine 
and Maria Louisa of France, down to those of very humble order. Cowper, speakiag of 
a " proud alcove," which covers a summit in our own land, says, 

" Not all its pride secures 
The grand retreat from injuries impressed 
By rxiral carvers, who with knives deface 
The pannels, leaving an obscure, rude name. 
In characters uncouth and spelt amiss. 
So strange the zeal to immortalise himself; 
Beats in the breast of man, that e'en a few. 
Few transient years, won from th' abyss abhorred 
Of blank oblivion, seems a glorious prize, 
And ev'n to a clown." 

No people so speedily discover this feeling as our own, as every remarkable place they 
visit bears witness ; and of this there was a curious exemplification in Switzerland in 
1821, when an English countess bought of the government of the Valais the rock of 



62 SWITZERLAND. 

BalmariLsa, a luige detached fragment, to have it marked with her own name, which it 
still bears, accompanied by a verjr sentimental inscription in doggrel English. 

A perilous excursion is sometimes made to a rock called the Oouvercle, which lies 
at the extreme end of the Mer de Glace. The journey is begmi on its border, 
along the base of the Montanvert, by the side of which this glacier rims imtil it 
joins the great longitudinal Glacier du Tacul. The traveller on the ice has two glaciers 
before him : the one on his right is that of Du Tacvil, which runs parallel to the Valley 
of Chamoimi up to the A^ery foot of the summit of Mont Blanc ; the other on his left, or 
rather straight before him, is a continuation of the Mer de Glace, by the side of which 
he has hitherto been jom^neying. 

Strlkiag at once across the ice, he soon reaches the Glacier de Lechaud, which is the 
name given to the continuation of the Mer de Glace, on the further side of the jimction 
with the Tacnl, and here he approaches one of the most wonderful sights the glaciers can 
afford. The Glacier du Talefre, a circular glacier, lying to the left of that of Lechaud, 
and on a higher level, empties itself, so to speak, into the latter. The view at the point 
of jimction is striking. The slope by which the Glacier du Talefre descends is very steep, 
and its blocks of ice assume the shape of towers, and of pja'amids variously inclined, 
which seem ready to crush the rash tra-^-cllcr ^^•ho slioidd dare to approach them. 

To reach the upper part of the Glacier de Talefre, beyond this steep slope, it is 
necessary to climb a rock on its left, called the . Couvercle, the sides of which are 
extremely steep and difficult to ascend. But the prospect from its summit is magni- 
ficent. It affords the view of the three stupendous valleys of ice : the Glacier of Talefre 
to the left, in front that of Lechaud, and the Tacid to the right, all uniting in one great 
valley of ice, called the Glacier des Bois, which stretches xmdcr the feet, and is 
surrounded and ornamented by the rugged needles. Li this place profound silence 
reigns, only interrupted by the bomading of distant chamois, and the cries of alarm 
Avhich the marmots give to their tribes on the approach of travellers. 

Another remarkable spot sometimes, but easily visited from Montanvert, is called the 
Jardin, lying far up in the very bosom of the eternal snow regions of the mountain. 
The first step, as the guides term it, is along the face of the rock on the left bank of the 
Mer de Glace. Some difRcidty is occasioned by the enormous rents in the ice which 
cross the path, and often render it necessary to go several hundi'ed yards on one side, 
before a point can be reached where the crevasse becomes narrow enough to ste]) or leap 
over. This last exploit the guides perform with wonderful agilit}^, by means of their 
bafons, but they do not wish their example to be followed, or fail to recite various 
instances to prove that iimninent peril, and death itself, have been the consequences of 
such temeritj'-. 

Captain Basil Hall, who made the ascent, thus describes a part of it attended even in 
the view of so adventurous a spirit, Avith " real danger." "At a certain part of our 
course, the path along which we Avere struggling came close to the base of the cliff 
overhanging the Mer de Glace. On its summit there lay a thick coating of ice and half- 
melted snow, mixed with nmnerous blocks of granite, cast doAvn by the avalanches. The 
freqixent soimd of these cataracts of snow Ave coidd hear in different directions among the 
mountains, and some of the aA^alanches Ave actually saAV not far from us. The Aveather 
being excessively hot, the meltiag snow caused innumerable cascades on both sides of 
the A'alley, which were all yevj pretty and picturesque, so long as Ave kept at a respect- 
able distance from the cliff ; but unfortunately, just OA^er the A-ery point where our road 
happened to touch the foot of the precipice, Ave were startled by beholding a mass of 
granite abovit as big as a mail-coach, barety held up by the ice in which it had probably 
at one time been completely imbedded, but out of Avhich more than three-quarters of its 
bulk now protruded." 



THE ASCENT TO THE JARBIN. 63 

An anxious conversation now took place on the part of tlie guides ; and the account is 
thus continued : " At the end of this parley, during which we began to fear that our 
expedition must here stop short, two of the guides, without consulting us, or saying 
more than ' Be silent and steadj'', or you are lost ! ' suddenly seized the foremost of our 
party, and "VN^ith the s-\^iftness of chamois goats dashed along directly imder the stone, 
which they afterwards explained might have been shaken down at any moment, by the 
mere tremor in the air caused by our speaking. 

" As soon as the first of us had been whisked across the point of danger, another was 
spirited off in the same manner. The guides then returned one by one, stepping imder- 
neath the great rock as cautiously as if they had been treading on eggs, and transported 
the remaining two gentlemen to the safe side. We now begged permission of the guides 
to set up a shout, in order to bring the stone down, that we might enjoy the crash in 
safety, and appreciate the fidl value of our escape, bj^ witnessing the havoc which the 
avalanche woidd cause. 'Yes,' said the guides, 'but who laiows the extent of these 
things ? How many more such fellows may not be lying further up, ready to topple 
down upon us, or how shall we be sure that the path, now open for us, may not be so 
blocked by the falling stones and ice, that our retreat wlU be rendered impossible ? I^o, 
no ! let the rock alone ; and very thankful may we be if we shall find it sticking where 
it is now when we retxu-n here some hours hence.' " 

Striking more into the centre of the frozen sea, the surface became not onlj- more and 
more rugged, but its general inclination steeper, as the adventm'ers advanced, and so 
much so, indeed, that it required some dexteritjr to preserve their balance. Near the 
centre of the Mer, and in various other dii'ections, but especially along the middle, 
enormoiis ridges appeared. After about seven miles wandering along the ice, they gained the 
shore on the right or eastern bank ; and though they were at first very glad to find them- 
selves on the smooth granite, which had been well polished by the descent of a long- suc- 
cession of avalanches, they discovered that they were now incurring vastly greater lisks 
than any they had hitherto encoimtered. This new danger was o-nmig to the steepness of 
the sm-face, combined with the smoothness of the rocks along which they had to wind their 
way, frequently on the verj^ edge of precipices more than 1,000 feet in perpendicidar 
height ! It is not sm-prising that fear shoidd now seize on some of the party ; but, on 
taking off their shoes and stocldiigs, they felt such entire confidence in their footing, that 
they could advance without apprehension to the very edge of the rock, and venture along 
places which even the guides declined approaching. 

The last portion of the journey lay amongst snow so soft that, as it reached half-way 
from the anlde to the knee at every step, proved not a little fatiguing. But when they 
came at length to the Jardin, they found merely a flat space of bare rock, about a quarter 
of an acre in size, with here and there a foAV half-starved grey lichens clinging to it. 
" The pecidiarity of the scene consists in the entire absence of every single thing — excej)t 
the sky overhead," says Captain Basil Hall, " to which our eyes have been accustomed 
to look elsewhere. There is not only not a single tree in sight, but not the smallest 
appearance of a shrub, nor a single blade of grass, far or near, nor even the least speck 
of green. Of course there are no traces of man's habitation, nor that of fowls of the air, 
nor of beasts of the field ; not even a fly buzzes about. In short, no living things 
appeared in this wide world of snow. In some directions the snow sends back so dazzling 
a glare that, without reducing the pupil of the eye to a point like that of a cat looking 
at the sun, we can scarcely bear to face it. In other dii-ections, not only the clefts or 
ravines in the ice, but even broad valleys, are cast into a depth, as well as breadth of 
shade which would enchant Martin, the painter, and might have given him a hint for a 
polar palace, shoidd it occur to his magnificent fancy to represent the com't of the ' ice 
king ' of the German poets." 



CHAPTER VI. 

MONT BLANC THE FIRST ASCENT OF THE MOUNTAIN— SUBSEQUENT ASCENTS THE COURSE 

TAKEN, AND THE PERIL ENCOUNTERED IN THE ASCENT AND DESCENT. 

Mr. Justice Talfourd describes, witli the emotions and language of a poet, the circiun- 
stances under which Mont Blanc first met his view. He was passing St. Martin on a 
visit to Ohamouni, when " descending rapidly," he says, " I soon found myself directly 
beneath the lowest skirts of Mont Blanc, and at a sudden turn of the road, in immediate 
neighbourhood mth the purest snow, against which the scarlet berries of the mountain- 
ash, which often em-iched the wild-wood, formed a delicious contrast. At the top of one 
of the eminences I stopped enchanted ; a deep rose-coloured light suffused the floating 
curtain of snow, some of whose vast' fields descended to the glacier near me — not a 
glimpse for a moment — it rested — slowly retreated from the skirts of the mountain 
upward, and marked out the roimd, small globe of white which forms its highest top, 
by lingering then for some minutes after the domes and pinnacles, which from this 
point seemed to equal or excel it in height, were left in cold grey twilight." 

From- Ohamouni, Mont Blanc rises gradually above the surrounding mountains, till it 
first terminates in the summit called the Dome de Goute ; beyond this is a valley of 
snow, from which rises the Middle Dome ; another sweep still higher leads to the extreme 
rounded summit, which is named La Bosse du Dromedaire, from its supposed resemblance 
to a dromedary's hunch. " The monarch of moimtains" is particiilarly distinguished 
from other mountains, by having its summits and sides clothed to a considerable depth 
with a mantle of snow, abnost without the intervention of the least rock to break the 
glare of the Avhite appearance from which it derives its name. The eye, miaccustomed 
to such objects, is therefore frequently deceived as to its altitude, and in many situations 
its appearance is less lofty than it is in reality. Even when the traveller has 
stood on the Col de Balme, when Mont Blanc is seen towering 7,000 feet above, it has 
failed to awaken the astonishment which might be expected from its superior height 
and magnitude above the circumjacent mountains. Thus Coxe says : "I was, indeed, 
more struck with the first view of the Schreckhorn from the top of the Sheydeck than of 
Mont Blanc from the Col de Balme. The summit of Mont Blanc being of a roundish 
form, and covered with snow, unites beauty with grandeur ; whereas the Schreckhorn, 
being pilled, naked, and its shaggy sides only streaked with snow, its grand characteris- 
tics are ruggedness and horror ; and hence, indeed, it derives its name of Schreckhorn, or 
the Peak of Terror. But Mont Blanc soon reassumed its real importance, seemed to 
increase in size and height, and solely attracted our attention, until we entered the Vale 
of Chamovmi." 

That intelligent and agreeable writer, Captain Basil Hall, states that, on first viewing 
these wonderfid momitaias, though imder great advantages of position and weather, he 
felt grievously disappointed ; and, with his usual amiableness, he aims to guard others 




TELL IN THE MARKET-PLACE OF ALTDORF. 



322 SWITZERLAOT). ^ 

wlLen at their foot lay a large crevasse, on tlie opposite side of whicli tlie wall of snow rose 
immediately, not leaving the smallest space on v/hich to plant a foot. Yet the head 
guide, as if not to be daunted by stupendous difficulty, attempted at once to surmount it. 
He succeeded, by means of his long alpenstock, in excavating a hole in the snow, into 
which the rest might jump without much danger of falling into the yawning grdf below. 
Then first crossing it, he extended his baton to assist the next comer, and this being 
seized by Mr. Speer, he took a leap, but the snow gave way, . and he remained suspended 
over the abyss, grasping with all his might the extended pole. 

Instantly rescued from his perilous position, the rest of the guides crossed in safety, 
and all found themselves clinging to the wall of snow which constitutes the southern 
aspect of the Col. And now the ascent commenced in earnest ; the first guide having 
been relieved by the second in command, with hatchet in hand, who assiduously dashed 
holes in the snow in which to place the hands and feet ; the steepness of the Col being 
such that the necessary inclination of the body forwards, which all ascents require, 
brought the chest and face in close contact with the snow, the excessive brilliancy of 
which, notwithstanding the blue glasses and veils of the party, proved singularly 
annoying. In this critical position, their progress upwards was of necessity very slow, 
the advance of the foot from one step to the succeeding one being a matter of careful 
consideration, as a slip, the least inclination backwards, or even giddiness, must inevitably 
have proved fatal to one or other of the party. " Thanks, however, to the effi^rts of the 
hardy mountaineers," says Mr. Speer, " the summit of the Col was at length attained, 
five hours after our departure from the night encampment. For some time previous 
our sphere of vision had necessarily been limited by the interposition of the Col de 
Lauteraar ; its crest, however, being attained, we beheld a great portion of Switzerland 
stretched out lilvc a map far below, whilst on either side rose the simimits of those 
gigantic barriers which bound the valley of Grindelwald. On the left the great and 
little Shreckhorn and the Mettenberg, and on the right the object of our ambition, the 
three peaks of the Wetterhorner, the Wetterhoru, the Mittalhorn, and Rosenhorn ; 
below us lay the fields of snow which descend from these summits, and crown the 
superior glacier of Grindelwald. 

" It was now deemed necessary to descend a portion of the opposite side of the Col we 
had just surmounted, previous to arriving at the foot of the great peak, which appeared 
to rise in close proximity to the height of 2,150 feet above the plateau of snow on Avhich 
we gtood, and which in itself attained an elevation of 10,000 feet. We now began our 
descent, which, although not so steep as our previous ascent, was perhaps more terrifying, 
the precipices of ice and snow, together with the wide crevasses thicldy spread at their 
feet, being constantly before tlie eyes. Grreat stress being laid on the ropes and hatchets, 
this descent was in turn safely accomplished, and we again began to ascend slope after 
slope of snow (at times threading our way with much difficulty among the gapiag C7-e- 
vasses, all of which presented the appearance of the deepest azure), our course being 
directed towards the base of the superb central peak known as the Mittalhorn, which 
now towered above our heads ; apparently a huge pyramid of the purest ice and snow. 
To me it appeared so impossible to scale it, that I ventvired to inquire of the guides 
whether they expected to attain the summit ; to this they replied, that they assuredly 
did so. I therefore held my peace, thinldng myself in right good company ; and the 
south-western aspect of the peak being deemed, to all appearance, the most practicable, 
we began the arduous task of scaling this virgin mountain. The ascent in itself strongly 
resembled that of the Col de Lauteraar described above : its "duration, however, being 
longer, and the coating of ice and snow being liltewise more dense, the steps he-\vn out 
with the hatchet required to be enlarged with the feet • preparatory to changing our 
position. In this singular manner we slowly ascended, digging the left hand into the 



ASCENT OF THE WETTERHOEN. 323 

hole above our heads, left by the hatchet of the advancing guide, and gradually drawing 
up the foot into the next apertiu'e, the body reclining fidl length on the snow between 
each succeeding step. In this truly delectable situation our eyes were every moment 
greeted with the view of the vast precipices of ice stretching above and below ; impress- 
ing constantly on oxir miad that one false step might seal the fate of the whole party : 
connected as we were one to the other, such in fact might easily have been the case. 
We had now been three hours on the peak itself, and the guides confidently affirmed 
that in another hour (if no accident occurred) we shoidd attain the summit : the banner 
was accordingly prej^ared, and after a few minutes repose, taken by tm-ning cautiously 
roimd, and placiag our backs against the snow, we stretched upwards once more, the 
guides singing national songs, and the utmost gaiety pervading the whole party at the 
prospect of so successful a result. The brilliant white summit of the peak appeared just 
above us, and Avhen within thirty or forty feet of its apex, the guide chef, considerately 
thinking that his employer woiild natiu-ally wish to be the first to tread this imcon- 
quered summit, reversed the ropes, and placing me first in the line, directed me to take 
the hatchet and cautiously cut the few remainiag steps necessary. These injunctions I 
obeyed to the best of my abiKties, and at one o'clock precisely the red banner fluttered 
on the simimit of the central peak of the Wetterhom. 

" We had thus, after three days' contiuual ascent from the level of the plain, attained 
a height of 12,154 feet. Up to this period our attention had been too much occupied in 
surmounting the opposing obstacles which lay in our route, to allow us to contemplate 
with attention the astonishiag panorama which gradually imfolded itself. The summit 
being under our feet, we had ample leisure to examine the relative position of the 
surroimding peaks, the greater portion of which appeared to lie far beneath us. To the 
north we perceived the Faulhorn and the range of mountains skirting the lake of Brienz ; 
behind these the passage of the Brunig, together with the lakes of Lungern and Lucerne, 
on the banks of which rise the pyramids of the Eight and the Mont Pilate, the summits 
of which (the boast of so many tourists) appeared as mole-hills. Towards the east the 
eye wanders over an intermiaable extent of snow- clad summits, extending to the utmost 
verge of the horizon — a perfect ocean of mountains. Turning to the south, however, we 
there perceive the monarchs of these Bernese Alps rising side by side : the Rosenhorn 
and Berglistock raise their snow-clad crests in close proximity ; separated from them by 
the Col de Lauteraar, we perceived the rugged Shreckhorn, aptly denominated the Peak 
of Terror ; whilst the loftiest>*of the group, the Finsteraarhorn, appears peering among 
his companions. To the right of these two peaks the brilliant Vischerhorner next came 
into view, beyond which we discover the three celebrated sister summits of the Eiger, the 
Mounch, and the Jungfrau ; the whole group exceeding the height of 12,000 feet. At 
the base of these gigantic masses lies the Weugern Alp, apparently a mere undulation ; 
whilst far below, the outline of the village of Griadelwald may be faintly discerned, the 
river Lutchine windixig, like a silver thread, through the valley. On all sides of the 
peak on which we now stood (on the summit of which a dozen persons coidd scarcely 
assemble) we beheld vast glittering precipices ; at the foot of these lie the plains of snow 
which contribute to the increase of the numerous glaciers, situated still lower ; namely, 
to the left the superior glacier of Grindelwald and that of Lauteraar, to the right the 
glaciers of Gauli, of Reufen, and of Eosenlaui, out of which rose the peaks of the 
Wellhorn, the Tosenhorn, and Engeihorner." 

Many anxious looks were now tiu'ned in this direction, for the guides had determiaed 
to reach Eosenlaui through this unexplored region. They had remained above 
twenty minutes on the siunmit, exposed to a violent Avind and intense cold, although in 
the plain on that day the thermometer of Fahrenlieit stood at ninety degrees in the 
shade. Some misgivings were occasioned by the sudden appearance of a few fleecy 

y 2 



324 SWITZEELAND. 

clouds far below ; the descent was, therefore, commenced, after the flag-stajE" had been 
firmly secured. From the excessive steepness of the slope, on the opposite side of the 
peak to that by which they had ascended, it was deemed desirable to glisade, and in this 
manner they reached the plateau with the utmost rapidity. Still, great caution was 
required, many of the crevasses having been covered with a slight coating of fresh snow, 
incapable of sustaining the weight of the human body. 

After crossing this plateau, they arrived at the foot of the Tosenhorn, a lofty peak, 
situated at the junction of the glaciers of Roserdaui and Reufen, which, at this point, 
became identified with the great slope of snow descending from the Wetterhorn. As 
this region, like the one preceding, was a terra incognita, the advance was slow and 
wavering, and in the descent of the Tosenhorn the difiiculties appeared rather to 
increase than diminish. The loose rocks and stones covering the southern aspect of the 
peak receded continually from under the feet, and fell in showers over the precipice ; 
below which, at a fearful extent, the deep blue crevasses and brilliant minarets of the 
glacier of Rosenlaui could be discerned. 

Quitting the rocks, the party again found themselves on slopes of snow so vertical, 
that for a long period of time it was necessary to descend backwards, as if on a ladder, 
the hatchet being freely used. At the foot of one of these slopes, the snow broke suddenly 
away, leaving a crevasse apparently about four yards "in width, the opposite border of 
which was full twenty feet lower than that on which they stood. At first sight this 
appeared insurmountable, the guides themselves being bewildered, and all giving advice in 
one breath, while every one was clinging to the slope of snow over the very verge of the 
blue gulf beneath. Jaun, at length, volunteered the hazardous experiment of clearing 
it at a bound, and he arrived safely on the inferior border. The ropes being detached, 
the remainder of the party mustered resobition, and desperation giving them fresh 
courage, all, in turn, came flying across the crevasse on the smooth snow below. 

Greatly inspirited by this triumph, and certainly the obstacle that had appeared was 
most alarming, they prepared to cross a narrow slope of ice, on which the chief guide 
was diligently tracking a few steps. But now a sudden rumbling noise arrested their 
attention ; the rear guide drew the rest back with the ropes, and that violently, and, in 
another moment, an avalanche thundered down over the very slope they had been 
preparing to cross, leaving the whole party petrified with horror at so narrow an 



On the subsidence of the clouds of fine snow in which t^ey had been enveloped, they 
again descended, during three hours, a succession of steep walls of ice and snow, reaching 
the glacier of Rosenlaui at five o'clock, p.m. It is smaller than those of Grindelwald, 
but, unlike them, it is not stained or disfigured. The decomposition of the surrounding 
rocks gives them a darkness of hue, and in some parts a blackness, from which the 
Rosenlaui glacier is entirely free. It has a surface of pure white, and its icebergs are of 
a transparent azure. It is, therefore, very remarkable, and demands a visit, which may 
easily be made by visitors to Grindelwald. 

The travellers, whose course we have been describing, found that the passage of this 
glacier resembled, in every respect, that of the far-famed Glacier de Bosson on Mont 
Blanc. The crevasses were so numerous as to leave mere ridges of ice interposed between 
them ; and these ridges being the only means of progress, the eye had constantly before 
it the surrounding gulfs of ice, which, at every step, appeared ready to swallow up the 
unfortunate individual whose presence of mind should fail, while the pinnacles of ice, 
rising overhead, often tottered on their unsteady foundations. 

Fatigued as the party were, the passage of the glacier was indeed highly perilous. 
The extreme caution and great courage of the guides happily prevented the occurrence 
of any serious accident, and at eight, p.m., they bade adieu to the fields of snow and 



DESCENT FROM THE WETTERHORN. 325 

ice-bound peaks over which their course had laia for seventeen hours. All danger was 
now passed, and the excitement having ceased, the tedious descent over rocks and fallen 
pieces became insufferably fatiguing. The little inn called the Steinboch, where there is 
a spring of miaeral waters, and to which the name has been given of the Baths of 
Eosenlaui, was still far below ; whilst the sombre view of the pine forests, stretching 
down into the valley, formed a striking contrast to the uninterrupted glare of so many 
previous hours. Night was now gradually throwing its veil over the surrounding 
objects; the glimmering of lights soon became visible ; and at nine, p.m., the whole party 
arrived in safety at the Steinboch. It had been, for some hours, the scene of great 
excitement, for a telescope had shown the flag fluttering on the summit of the peak — the 
intimation that, for the first time, the ascent of the Wetterhorn had been made. Even 
before that discovery, four small dots had been descried, at an immense height, on the 
otherwise imsidlied snow; and as these were observed to change their position, the 
inhabitants of the valleys had sagaciously concluded that another of their stupendous 
mountains was in a fair way of losing its former prestige of invincibility. 

" On the following morning," saj^s Mr. Speer, " I took leave of the two intrepid 
chamois-hunters, to whom on several occasions dxiring the previous eventful day I had 
owed my preservation. I was shortly afterwards informed that these poor fellows, 
though so hardy, were confined by an illness arising from the severity of their late 
exploit. For myself, I escaped with the usual consequences of so long an exposure to 
the snow in these elevated regions ; namely, the loss of the skin of the face, together 
with inflammation of the eyes, and, accompanied by my remaining guide, who was 
likewise in a very doleful condition, we recrossed the Great Shiedeck, and arrived at 
Interlachen." 



CHAPTER XXIY. 

AI^'CIENT HELVETIA— REMARK ABIJE KEMAINS OP AVENTTCUM THE FEUDAL SYSTEM THE 

BATTLE OF SEMFACH WILLIAM TELL- p 

Enteeing, as we are now, a part of Switzerland teeming with liistorical associations, it 
will be desirable to glance at the events in the early history of its people from which 
they arise, that the spots we have yet to traverse may be invested with their proper and 
lofty rater est. 

The Celtic race were, most probably, the earliest inhabitants of this region, finding, in 
their emigrations, a home amidst the fastnesses of the Alps. Ancient Helvetia was 
celebrated among the Romans for the boldness of its natural features and the rude 
valour of its people. The Helvetii were fully made known by the grand expedition 
undertaken with a view to make themselves masters of Gaul, and the discomfiture of 
which formed the first military exploit of Csesar. He alludes to them as strong and 
warlike, and points out two of their tribes, the Tigurini and the TJrbigeni, whose local 
position, it has been supposed, were Zurich and Orbe. Besides the Celtic Helvetii, who 
settled or wandered about the northern and western regions of the Alps, a distinct race 
is discoverable, probably of Etruscan origin, who inhabited the Rhostia of the Romans, 
long known as the Grison country. The pastures of the country pointed out to its 
inhabitants the species of industry which they had to practise. They devoted themselves, 
therefore, to the pastoral state, and, in all probability, their surplus productions passed 
off towards the Pays de Vaud, or the plains of Helvetia, which must have afforded 
faciKties for commerce. 

The pastoral Hfe, simple as it is, sufficed for the wants of many inhabitants of the Alps. 
Content in humble poverty, they did not aspire to an opulence foreign to their situation. 
Arts, science, and trades were alike unknown. Each family prepared its own coarse 
clothing, and fabricated the few utensils and articles of furniture of which it stood in 
need. Their habitations were branches of trees interwoven, and were scattered in the 
valleys or backed by the heights of the mountaia range. 

Every proprietor of a small hut appropriated to himself as much of the adjacent 
land as was necessary for his support ; the remainder, as well as the Alpine pastures, 
belonging indiscriminately to all the herdsmen. Hence originated the extensive com- 
mons to which there was a general right. This simple distribution, the detached manner 
of dwelling, and the long contiauance of the herdsmen on the Aljjs in the grazing season, 
lessened among these people the unhappy contests respecting property, which, in other 
coimtries, too often disturb the frail texture of social order. 

A martial sjairit, however, arose in early times among this moimtain race. Orgetorix 
is one of two chieftains, of whom tradition tells, who preferred the noise and strife of war to 
the quiet herdsman's life, and glanced, with envious eyes from the surrounding wastes, 
to the highly cultivated fields of Gaul. He is. described as gifted with eloquence, and 



AVENTICtTM. 327 

the people as yielding to his persuasive power, and determining to emigrate in search of 
a richer soil. But he was detected in ambitious designs hostile to the general weal, and 
he perished by his own hand to escape the consequences which were impending. 

. Though the design continued of settling in Gaul, Ca3sar diminished the mmiber of the 
wanderers, and drove them back to their forsaken pastures with the bitter remembrance 
that they were tributaries of Rome. On the subjugation of Graul, the conquerors sent 
colonies into Helvetia, and, for a time, there was peace between the people and their 
rulers. It was not, however, of long duration ; war broke out, but it was only for the 
vmskilled bands of the Helvetii to fall wounded and dying beneath the highly disciplined 
troops of Rome. The bonds of vassalage were now rivetted afresh on the sirrvivors, and 
" the iron entered their souls," as the penalty of their iH-advised insurrection. 

Aventicum was the ancient capital of Helvetia; and from hence the Roman mile- 
stones found in Switzerland show that distances were calculated. A vast circumference 
of walls seems to mark its extent, but they are, most probably, comparatively of modern 
date, and were constructed with the materials of the old ones round a smaller area. For 
centuries this area was the quarry from which building materials were procm-ed, and some 
years ago, the proprietor of a single acre sold stones from it to the amount of one hundred 
pounds sterling. Among them was one block of marble which it took thirty horses to 
remove. After a drought, the foimdations of Jbuildiags ranged in streets are still dis- 
tinguishable on the surface of the groimd, by the burnt appearance of the grass over 
them. Mosaic pavements have been found belonging to baths, and aqueducts, by which 
they were supplied, traverse the plain underground in various directions. 

Byron has pointed out the most striking object : — 

" By a lone wall, a lonelier column i-ears 
A grey and grief-worn aspect of old days ; 
"lis the last remnant of the wreck of years, 
And looks on with the wild bewildered gaze 
Of one to stone converted by amaze, 
Yet still with consciousness ; and there it stands, 
Makihig a marvel that it not decays, 
When the coeval pride of human hands, 
LcYcU'd Aventicum, hath strew'd her subject bands." 

And with this allusion, the poet has not failed to recite the story given by Tacitus of 
Julia Alpintda, "a priestess of the goddess Aventia," who pleaded in vain with the 
legate and general Coecina for the life of her father, when, with the people of Aventicum, 
he humbly submitted to the favour of the conquerors. 

— " Oh ! sweet and sacred be the name ! — 

Julia — the daughter, the devoted— gave 

Her youth to Heaven ; her heart, beneath a claim 

Nearest to Heaven's, broke o'er a father's grave. 

Justice is sworn 'gainst tears, and hers would crave 

The Ufe she lived m ; but the judge was just, 

And then she died on liim she could not save. 

Their tomb was simj)le, and without a bust, 

And held within one urn, one mind, one heart, one dust." 

Fifteen hundred years after the occurrence of this event, a stone foimd among the 
ruins told by its inscription the affecting tale, and that Julia Alpinida " lived to the age 
of twenty-three." "I know of no human composition," saj^s Byron, "so affecting as 
this, nor a history of deeper interest. These are the names and actions which ought 



328 SWITZERLAND. 

Bot to perish, and to whicli we turn with a true and hearty tenderness from the wretched 
and glittering detail of a confused mass of conquests and battles, with which the mind is 
moved for a time to a false and feverish sympathy, from which it recm-s at length with 
all the nausea consequent on such intoxication." 

The walls of the ancient fort of Aventicum, on the lake of Morat, — not far from the 
lake of JN'euchatel — are, in fact, standing, and the iron fastening for boats remained in 
them but a few years ago. Oaken piles of the foundation, very black and hard, appear 
prominentlj'- to view in some places in a state of singular preservation ; but the lake has 
receded about a mile, leaving a great extent of fine meadows. Close by is the new town 
of Avenches, built of the materials of the old city. Among its ruias is an amphitheatre, 
buried under a svifficient depth of soil for grass to grow over ; but the oval shape of the 
rows of seats are discernible. The circumference at the top is above eight hundred and 
sixty feet, the depth about thirty feet. Large blocks of white marble, once the corners 
of splendid edifices, are also worked in the walls of the town and of the church, all 
upside down. Every Avhere basso relievos and inscriptions are observable, built up in 
walls. 

It is difiicult to familiarise the mind with details relating to this city. Numerous 
inscriptions discovered among its ruins, and carefully recorded by Spon and Bochet, are 
glowing expressions of public and private- felicity. Others assert that there were colleges 
and professors of various sciences in the country. The works of Pliny embalm numerous 
descriptions, supplied by the diligence of learned Helvetii, of the plants, fish, animals, 
and minerals of their native lakes and mountains. Oolimiella, Varro, Virgil, and 
Suetonius attest the rapid improvement of their agriculture, and are loud in the praises 
of Helvetic cheeses and Rhetian wines. Mention is made of a multitude of towns, 
boroughs, and public monuments, now utterly unknown, uniting to prove the advanced 
state of civilisation enjoyed by the inhabitants ; but though our "appetite" for informa- 
tion " grows by what it feeds on," the provision suddenly ceases to be supplied, and 
the fountain which seemed to promise a continued stream suddenly becomes drJ^ 

The city of Baden, sacked and destroyed on the overthrow of Aventicum, is said to 
have been a- fashionable watering-place — a circumstance which shows the great progress 
which the Helvetii had made in luxmy and refinement since the days of Caesar, though 
then they had opposed him with great coui-age, while now they bent the knee before 
the commander of a single legion. A solenui deputation, sent to deprecate the wrath of 
Vitellius, did not venture to lay their grievances before that emperor. Far from such 
boldness, they confessed themselves guilty of all he was pleased to lay to their charge ; 
Cersus, one of the deputies, a man of eloquence, even feigning to be intimidated, and 
thus calmed the soldiery, who had been clamorous for the entire destruction of the 
Helvetii. Vespasian endeavoured to heal the wounds which his predecessor, Vitellius, 
had inflicted. His father was a collector of the revenue and a merchant, and had amassed 
great wealth in Helvetia, where his son passed the days of his boyhood. 

On the fall of the imperial empire, fresh tribes came from the north to seek a dwelling 
among the hills and valleys of the country, and to become the parents of the existing 
race. The Burgundians, issuing from the shores of the Baltic, found a home between 
the Jura range, the Lake of Geneva, and the river Aar. The Alemanni, cherishing the 
deadliest hate to all that was Roman, spread themselves over the north of the country, 
now known as German Switzerland. The Ostrogoths took up their residence among the 
Rhetian Alps ; and, in the rear, rushed down the Franks, with the force of a mountain 
torrent, on the lands which it traverses. Crushing, with a ruthless might, the Alemanni, 
it first shared Switzerland with the Burgundians and the Ostrogoths ; and then, though 
the former continued a distinct people, they ousted the latter from their possessions, and 
the end of the sixth century were the absolute sovereigns of Helvetia. 




THE BEAR HUNT. 



330 SWITZBKIAND. 

The influx of barbarian tribes was as a blight falling on the progress that had been 
previously made. The arts of the Romans, with their comforts and luxuries, all 
disappeared, particidarly before the power of the Alemanni. But flocks and herds 
yielded to the new possessors of the land all they required for their subsistence, and 
pastures became spread over the whole coimtry. Lands, before given to tillage, were 
now dreary wastes ; " the furrows of the Eoman plough were overgrown with thickets, 
and the Lake of Constance became covered with vast forests, the retreat of wolves and 
bears." Again, in many parts, all trace of human intellect and energy had passed away, 
and over them roamed, in tmrestricted liberty, the wild beasts of the earth. 

The peculiarities of the feudal system obtained in Switzerland from the times in 
which the Franks established their sway. Although the barbarous nations that formed 
it came from different coimtries, spake different languages, and were under diflferent 
leaders, that singular institute bore everywhere a character of singidar uniformity. 
Every freeman, on receiving a portion of the land, bound himself to appear in arms 
against the enemies of his country. The king or general, continuing to be the head of 
the colony, had, of course, the largest share, and by parcelling it out gained new 
adherents, bound to follow his standard wherever and whenever it was to be unfurled. 
His example was followed bj^ his officers, and a feudal kingdom was but another name 
for a vast camjj. The powerful vassals of the crown soon extorted a confirmation for life 
of the grants of land, which, being at first purely gratuitous, had been made only during 
pleasure. Not satisfied mth this, they succeeded in having them converted into 
hereditary possessions ; and the rendering these possessions unalienable completed the 
usui'pation. * 

These circumstances lead us back to a time when Switzerland was covered with black 
forests, and bears were very common in the mountains. They inspired the flocks and 
herds with terror. ISTow, however, when a bull is warned by its instinct that a bear is in 
its neighbom-hood, it becomes restless, agitated, and wanders about in all directions till 
it finds its foe. Then commences a terrible contest. The bear attacked defends itself 
with despair, but rarely with success. The bvdl, furious, drives it before him, and kills it 
by driving it agaiust a tree or a rock. ' A shepherd, it is said, having gone in search of 
a bull which had been missing for some days, found it holding the carcase of his foe 
fixed to a rock. 

'No wonder, then, that when the castles, the riiins of which crown many Swiss hiUs, 
were inhabited by feudal barons, the shepherd came down from his moimtain and 
humblj'- begged his lord to deliver him from his enemy. In the morning, at dawn of 
day, the huntsmen crossed the drawbridge, the sound of the horn was heard in the 
mountain, the pack of hounds barked joyously. 

Strangely did the tall dark piues contrast with the rough masses of broken rocks, the 
huge blocks of ice, and the frozen snow settled on the craggy peaks, Avhen there was a 
bear hunt ia the Alpiue heights. As we traverse that coimtry, it requh-es the full play 
of the imagination to call ixp the hunters in the picturesque costume of the time, with 
their lances gleaming in the light, and their dogs, full of life and energy, chasing the 
bear and following it, with irrepressible ardour, over many a dark abyss to the deep 
recesses of its cavern-home. Yet, such was the sport of many a feudal lord, who went 
forth, with his retainers to the chase and to exult ia perilous success. Since the 
destruction of the ancient forests of Helvetia bears have become rare : they are now 
only foimd in some of the remote vaUeys of the canton of the Glarus, and in part of 
the French Jiira, opposite Geneva. Every year, when the first snow falls, the flesh of 
two or three of these animals is sold iu that city. At this period only can the bear be 
hunted, for then its traces are visible in the snow. Later it is impossible to discover it in 
the depth of the forests where it conceals itself, choosing the darkest and most inacces- 



THE GEEMAN EMPEEOK. 331 

sible places. Later still it retires to a cavern, and remains diiring the whole winter 
completely immoyeable. 

The Burgundian part of Switzerland was styled by Berenger de Tours the modern 
BcEotia. It was, at that time, one vast forest, inhabited onlywithin the immediate range 
of those castles and monasteries which were thinly scattered over its surface ; but the 
German part of the country was less desolate. The names of some of the powerful 
families, who afterwards acted such a conspicuous part in the wars of the fourteenth 
century, began at this time to appear in history. One noble house, that of the Groutrans 
of Alsace, then in low circumstances, and not particularly distinguished from the others, 
was destiaed to give laws, for a while, on the Po, the Danube, and the Tagus, and to 
conquer a large part of the new world. 

Yet now, having been deprived of their fiefs, in consequence of an unsuccessful enter- 
prise agaiast the Emperor Otho, they had only preserved a patrimonial estate near the 
junction of the Aar and the Eeuss, and there subsisted humbly, but ingloriously, by 
exactions on their wretched dependents, whose loud and reiterated complaints history has 
perpetuated. In process of time they built the castle of Hapsburg, and took its name. 
One strong tower stOl exists, standing on a gentle eminence, close to the Eoman camp 
and city of Windonissa. One of its windows presents to view the whole extent of the 
domain possessed in the tenth century by these ancestors of the house of Austria. 

The last king of Burgundy died in 1032, and the sovereignty of the countries over 
which he ruled fell, at last, to the emperor, who already possessed the German part of 
Switzerland and Ehoetia. The whole, therefore, of Switzerland, as it is now, was thus 
placed under the protection of the same feudal lord. Nearly half a century afterwards, 
the German emperor, Henry IV., fell under the displeasure of the Pope, and a foreign as 
well as civil war was kindled in his and the neighbouring states. New monasteries and 
abbeys were now added to those that had pre^douly been reared. Thej were generally 
filled by individuals of noble families ruined by the wars, or seeking within their walls a 
secm-e asylimi. Several of Hhe German emperors endowed these establishments ynth. 
immense tracts of vacant lands, soon rendered productive by a growing population. The 
serfs of abbeys were allowed to marry, and inherit and dispose of their property at 
pleasure. 

Meanwhile, those who dwelt amidst the pastures of Switzerland were cherishing the 
spirit of popular government. Men who enjoyed so many properties in common, coiild 
not abandon to a single person the care of their management. Every year, therefore, 
before their departm-e from 'the Alps, and their long separation, all the communities 
of the country assembled in one body. In this general assembly {Landesgemeinde) 
opinions and desires were united, and from their union emanated the law which every 
one was bound to obey. This law remained ' ia full vigovir during the year, or for a 
longer time, when such was the will of the general assembly. Its execution was entrusted 
to an experienced person, invested with the public confidence, to whom was joined a council, 
composed of some of his countrymen. He was called the Landamman, a title which 
conferred on him no other power than that for which he had been created, nor any kind 
of personal privilege. He continued two years in ofilce, after which some other person 
took upon himself the bui'den of the state. Such was the primitive constitution of this 
people, or rather of this family, each member of which had attained his majority, and 
enjoyed the undi^dded inheritance of his ancestors. Even when the Waldstatten, or 
forest states, were adjudged to the Germanic empire, of which the people then heard for 
the first time, they had lived long and happily under their modest compact, and did not 
alter it when the imperial bailifis came to superintend them under the pretext that their 
country was a dependency of that of Zurich. 

Unmolested in their manners and customs, they did not take alarm on seeing a distant 



332 switzeriAnd. 

emperor arrogate the title of ctief of tlie mountains. Satisfied, on the contrary, with 
finding in a potent prince a support against the aggressions of their neighbours, they 
voluntarily placed themselves under the protection of the empire, with the reservation of 
their liberty and constitution ; and the emperors, who were little envious of the possession 
of the wild regions of Helvetia, contented themselves with having in them brave and 
faithful neighbours, who frequently sent their chosen youth to the imperial armies. The 
dukes of Germany or of Suabia exercised the protectorate in the name of the emperor ; 
an imperial bailiff administered criminal justice in Switzerland itself. 

A great variety of political institutions prevailed among the people of the diiferent 
valleys, insulated between their natural ramparts ; but most of them acknowledged some 
feudal chief, who was himself bound to the emperor. The dukes of Zoeringen had power 
over these lords, whether spiritual or temporal, as hereditary governors for the emperor. 
Notwithstanding their feudal dependence, the burghers of most of the towns chose 
their own magistrates, as did the monks their own abbots, and the canons their own 
provosts. The sovereignty of the emperors was rarely burdensome, and it was deemed 
honourable and advantageous to hold directly of the empire without any intermediate 
power. It is even said that it was not vmcommon for the substitutes of counts and 
dukes, sitting as judges, to take the opinions of the people present at their assizes — a 
procediire approaching the institute of trial by jurj^ Among the multitude of towns 
starting up into existence in all parts of the country, or acquiring new power and conse- 
quence, Geneva and Lausanne, both very ancient, were the most conspicuous in Roman 
Helvetia ; and Basle, Zurich, SchafFhausen, and Lucerne in the German part. The 
principal cause of their growth was the defence afforded by their walls and their nimie- 
rous inhabitants. 

The emperor Henry I. fortified and gave many of them charters of community, by 
which the inhabitants were enfranchised, and servitude was abolished. He ordered that 
one-ninth of the peasants, able to bear arms, should repair to the towns in case of attack, 
and that one-third of the corps should always be sent there for their security. These 
corpoi-ations governed themselves by a coimcil and magistrates of their own nomination, 
levymg taxes, embodying and training their mihtia, which took the field whenever 
required by the lord paramount. Some of the great barons imitated the emperor, and 
sold immunities to the towns within their respective territories, but most of them were 
averse to the practice. 

Under the feudal system no new laws could be binding, or taxes be imposed, but by the 
consent of the freemen, called together by the barons, who themselves met the emperor 
for the same purpose, in company with the higher ecclesiastics. But as soon as the 
towns were enfranchised, they acquired a legal name and a poKtical existence, which 
entitled them to admission by deputy into the imperial assemblies. They became, as it 
is styled in the German jurisprudence, immediate; that is, they were subject to the 
emperor alone. 

Zurich and Basle derived peculiar advantages from their situation. The former, on 
the track to Italy, by the Lake of Wallenstadt, and the passes of the St. Gothard and 
the Septimer, was filled with traders, innkeepers, and custom-house men. A sjjecial 
tribunal, called the court of the Lombards, decided all differences in which foreigners 
were concerned. It had an imperial palace, a stately residence for the bishop, and a 
corso for chivalrous exercises. The situation of Basle, at the head of navigable waters, 
was still more favourable, and it grew, in consequence, to great size and wealth. 
Different companies were now established. The sovereign council was composed first of 
twelve, and afterwards of twenty-four, of the chief citizens, selected and presided over by 
the bishop. Basle entered into a confederacy of ten years with several towns on the 
Rhine, for common defence against feudal encroachments, highway robbers, and illegal 



DEFENSIVE UNION. 333 

tolls. Zurich was of •some consequence in the year 800, when it was visited by- 
Charlemagne, and the house he occupied is still shown. Berne and Friburg are 
undoubtedly of later date, having both been founded by the Duke of Zarinzen, in the 
twelfth century. 

At that period when the empire, involved in a series of wars, experienced violent 
shocks, and the emperors saw their power diminished, while their vassals were arriving 
at the condition of independent princes, the mountaineers were often, for a long time, 
left to themselves. Then, according to th'e degree of danger which menaced them, they 
leagued themselves more or less closely with their neighbours, or else chose their own 





CASTLE OF CELLENBOUKG, 



chief of a defensive imion. This latter took place in 1100, when Count Rodolph of 
Lentzburg was called by them to this dignity. 

So early as the year 888, the hermit Meinrad had chosen his retreat in the wild 
valley which has long been called Einsiedeln. More than forty years after, on the 
spot where his cell had been, a monastery was reared by the hands of another 
hermit, named Benno. This foundation, through the benefit it received from princes, 
soon extended its power around ; and the emperor Henry II., by the donation of an 
adjoining forest, entrenched on the territory of the commons of Schwitz. 

fl?he canton resisted this infraction of its rights and maintained its property ; but in 
1144, in consequence of the complaints of the monks of Einsiedeln, the emperor declared 
that the litigated tract should belong to the convent. Schwitz, struck by the injustice of 



aS4 SWITZERLAND. 

tMs order, refused submission to it, and entered into a defensive - league witli its faitLful 
neighbours, the cantons of Uri and Unterwalden. In vain did the bishop of Constance 
launch his interdict against the three combined : their inhabitants contiuued their rustic 
labours in peace, and their priests ia silence obeyed the will of the people. 

From this period, Uri, Schwitz, and Unterwalden have always remained intimately 
united, and as strength ensued by their aUiance, they vigorously preserved the freedom 
which they inherited from their ancestors. They refused to pay homage to the emperor 
till a formal promise had been made of respectiug their constitution, and they had been 
recognised as free people, who placed themselves imder the protection of the emperor. 
Several acts delivered to them by the emperors confirm the rights which they had 
reserved. 

The most remote historical epoch of this people does not present "Che slightest trace of 
an internal dissention, or any change in their social organisation. The latter, when once 
rendered adequate to the purposes of those for whom it was made, was transmitted, 
without the slightest alteration, from age to age. Every treaty with a foreign power 
contained a clause by which it was guaranteed. 

In giving complete security to property, one bond was thrown around the whole 
people. Every citizen was attached to his country by the same interests ; every one was, 
therefore, equally disposed to watch over the liberty of all. The only honorary distinc- 
tion of the chief of the republic was that resulting from the choice which the people had 
made of his person. He was boxmd to fulfil his duties without the hope of making them 
a source of profit, and could not neglect them without incurring the popular indignation. 

Ambition and avarice fo\md no aliment in these peacefid valleys. The virtues of the 
people cast a restraint over the magistrates themselves. The solitude of the Alps, and 
the separation of their dwellings, habituated the villagers to a domestic and tranquil life. 
The toAvns which gradually arose coidd never attain to the degree of opulence which 
residts from the industry and ardom' of commerce. No inhabitant could assume a marked 
superiority over another ; and the equality invariably established among the citizens 
induced that among the difierent commmiities. No one then aspired to the title of a 
city, which, mider their constitution, would rather have exposed them to danger than 
conferred any solid advantage. 

Jealous of their peace, which they knew to be connected with the public prosperity, 
the people kept at a distance every stranger whom they suspected of ability to acquire, 
in their country, a dangerous influence. It was, therefore, early ordained that no 
person, whatever his talents, esperience, or morals, should exercise the functions of a 
judge, if he were not a native and an inhabitant. Equal caution was displayed in 
reference to the priests. Schwitz, whose sole policy aimed at the preservation of its 
privileges, paralysed their influence. It allowed no one to exercise their functions unless 
he were a native of the countiy. They felt that ecclesiastics, in the midst of their 
families and the companions of their childhood, accustomed to the principles of the 
psople, and fidly aware of their firmness, were less Liable than others to be misled into 
any acts inimical to their country. Hence the anathema pronoimced against the 
Waldstatten by the bishop of Constance had no more efiect than a spent ball. The 
priests, as before, continued their functions. The favour of their brethren threw into the 
shade all the anger of the episcopate. 

About the beginning of the twelfth century, the Waldstatten, forming three small 
republics, had, as their permanent representation at the imperial court, Ulric of Lentz- 
burg, who was called their patron, advocate, or protector. Some years after his death 
Hodolph of Hapsburg being appointed to succeed him, assumed in a charter the title of 
hereditary patron ; and it was his son, called also Rodolph, who ascended the imperial 
throne and founded the Austrian dynasty. The subject of violent passions, and of 



GRIEVOUS OPPRESSION. 835 

uncontrolled ambition, he constantly pursued the course acted upon by bis predecessors^^— 
protecting the towns, and generally tbe middle ranks of society, against tbeir great 
feudal lords. 

Tbe situation of an emperor of Germany was not one of ease, and scarcely one of 
power. Many of bis nobles were nearly bis equals, and few were bis friends. He was, 
in fact, tbe bouorary protector ratber tban tbe sovereign of most of tbe countries 
composiag bis beterogeneous realm, eacb claiming some special immunities, and only 
agreeing in tbeir unwillingness to submit to taxation. Eodolpb bad been elected emperor, 
not tbat be migbt restore tbe imperial authority, but because bis territory and influence 
were so inconsiderable as to excite no jealousy in tbe German princes. 

- Tbe history of bis reign is full of bloody quarrels between barons and abbots, between 
both and tbe freemen of towns, the people of tbe Waldstatten also occasionally mixing in 
tbe political fray. Tbe emperor was often called on to settle these differences by the 
exercise of bis legal authority and of his sword ; for tbe judicial and executive functions 
were now blended. Public reverence for the clergy, once conspicuous, and tbe pre- 
ference given them over temporal lords were now rapidly declining. 

Albert, son of Rodolph, was elected to tbe imperial throne seven years after bis father's 
death. Ambitious like him, but without his prudence and abilities, be did not reckon the 
good-will of men among the available means of power, and soon alienated tbe hearts of 
bis subjects. This Swiss emperor proved an ardent persecutor of bis own countrymen, 
but led to tbeir advancement by teaching them the secret of their strength. 

Berne, already formidable by a warlike population, little more than a hundred years 
after its foundation, incurred the displeasure of Albert, and underwent a siege, which 
ended ingloriously, like one iindertaken by bis father. The Bernese took his baimer, and 
made many prisoners. 

Albert next attempted Zurich, but the differences were soon settled, and the whole 
weight of his vengeance fell on Glarus, less capable of defence. All these towns acknow- 
ledged the sovereignty of tbe house of Hapsburg, and the extent of their dependence 
was tbe only groimd of dispute. But tbe people of tbe Waldstatten acknowledged only 
tbe bead of the empire, and not tbe representative of any particular family as their Kege 
lord. The object of Albert was to imite the whole country, now called Switzerland, into 
a compact hereditary appendage of his family, as counts of Hapsburg, or dukes of 
Austria. 

Tbe Waldstatten sturdily refused to accede to any such project ; and it was in order 
therefore to punish or compel them, tbat instead of sendiag, as was usual, some nobleman 
for an imperial governor, whose fimction was only that of high judge in capital crimes, 
he sent them two dependents of his family. These were tbe bailiffs Gessler and 
Laudenburg, whose dispositions were as hostile as their orders, and who endeavoiired to 
bring down by oppression and insult the high spirit of tbe moimtaiaeers. As they were 
not united in towns, like the burghers, and bad not tbe same means of defence, they bore 
tbe tyranny with apparent submission for some years. 

We shrink from tbe recital of acts of disgusting cruelty and insolence, but one instance 
ought to be mentioned. Laudenbiirg bad seized a pair of oxen, belonging to an inha- 
bitant of Melctbal, called also Arnold or Erni, as a punishment for some alleged disobe- 
dience. One of bis servants, in answer to the expostulation of Melctbal, said, tbat peasants 
needed no oxen, and might draw the plough themselves. The insolence provoked a 
blow with a stick. Melctbal fled, but his father being taken in his stead, had bis eyes 
put out. How naturally and pathetically has Schiller depicted the discovery of bis loss 
on tbe part of his sou ! 

Melctkal. O, the eye's light, of all the gifts of Heaven, 
The dearest, "best ! From light all beings hve— 



Sob SWITZEBLAND. 

Each fair created thing — the very plants 
Turn with a joyful transport to the light, 
And he — he must drag on through all his days 
In endless darkness ! Never more for him 
The sunny meads shall glow, the flow'rets bloom ; 
Nor shall he more behold the roseate tints 
Of the iced mountain top ! To die is nothing. 
But to have life, and not have sight, — oh ! that 
Is misery indeed ! Why do you look 
So piteously at me ? I have two eyes. 
Yet, to my poor blind father can give neither ! 
No, not one gleam of that greaf^ea of light. 
That with its dazzling splendour' floods my gaze ! 

Stauffacher. Ah, I must swell the measm-e of your grief, 
Instead of soothing it. The worst, alas ! 
Remains to tell. They've stripp'd him of his all ; 
Nought have they left him, save his staff, on which 
BUnd, and in rags, he moves fi'om door to door." 

Stauffacher, into whose mouth the poet has put this language, is said to have been 
roused to action by the appeal of his wife: "How long shall arrogance triumph, and 
humility weep ? Shall foreigners become masters of the land, and heirs to our property ? 
"What avails it that our mountains are inhabited by men ? Are we mothers to suckle 
sons doomed to become beggars, and bring up our daughters as slaves to foreigners ? 
This cannot be." He became one of the first of three that planned an insurrection, and 
the spot where they met — a spring in a meadow called the Grutli — is marked by tradi- 
tion, on the left bank of the lake of the Waldstatten, and nearly fronting Brunnen. The 
other two were Melcthal and Faust. After a few nightly meetings, they brought each 
two friends, and agreed, on a certain day, for a general insurrection, and then parted 
with a solemn oath of fidelity and secresy. 

An incident endangered the success of this undertaking by hastening the crisis ; this 
was the well-known adventure of "VVilliani Tell. Schiller has well portrayed the scene 
that now took place, as a drum is heard ; people enter bearing a cap upon a pole, followed 
by a crier ; and women and children throng tumultuously after them : — 

1st Workman. What means the drum? Give heed ! 
Why, here's a mumming ! 
And look, the cap— what can they mean by that ? 

Crier. In the emperor's name, give ear ! 

Workmen. Hush : silence ! hush ! 

Crier. Ye men of Uri, ye do see this cap ! 
It will be set upon a lofty pole 
In Altdorf, in the market-place : and this 
Is the lord governor's good will and pleasiu'c. 
The cap shall have like honour as himself, 
And all shall reverence it with bended knee. 
And head uncovered ; thus the king will know 
Who are his true and loyal subjects here ; 
His life and goods are forfeit to the ci-own, 
That shall refuse obedience to the order. 

\_The 2}eoj)le burst out into laughter. The drum heats, 
and the procession 2'>asses on. 

\st Workman. A strange device to fall upon, indeed ! 
Do reverence to a cap ! A pretty farce ! 
Heard ever mortal any thing like this ? 

Master Mason. Down to a cap on bended knee, forsooth ! 
Rare jesting this with men of sober sense ! 



■VVIIXI.VM TELL. 337 

Isi Workman. Nay, were it but the imperial cro-wn, indeed ! 
But 'tis the cap of Austria .' I've seen it 
Hanging above the throne in Gessler's hall. 

Mason. The cap of Austria ? Mark that ! A snare 
To get us into Austria's power, by heaven ! 

Workmen. No freeborn man will stoop to such disgrace. 

Master Mason. Come— to our comrades, and advise with them." 

William Tell, one of the conspirators, refused this act of homage ; he was therefore seized 
and taken into the presence of the governor, who sentenced him to shoot an apple from ojff 
his son's head. The father and the child immediately proceeded to the endurance of this 
severe trial ; but the calm bearing of the child, and the long-skilled arm and eye of the 
bowman, triumphed. Gessler saw Tell concealing an additional shaft, and asked why 
this was brought ? " Had the first missed the apple," said the bowman, " the second 
should not have missed thy heart !" Gessler now made TeU his prisoner ; loaded him 
with chains, and embarked with him on board his boat, to bear his captive to the castle 
of Kussnacht. But a storm arose, and Gessler directed that Tell, expert at the oar as 
well as the bow, should be unbound, that he might save them in this time of peril. Tell 
pHed the bark so that it might near the shore, theii springing over the rocks, left his 
oppressors to their fate, and made his escape. 
True, indeed, was Melcthal's tale as he said : — 

Through the Surencn's fearful mountain chain. 

Where dreary ice-fields stretch on every side, 

And sound is none, save the hoarse vultm-e's cry, 

I reached the Alpine pastm-e, where the herds 

From Uri and from Engelberg resort, 

And tm-n their cattle forth to graze in common. 

Still as I went along, I slacked my tliirst 

With the coarse oozings of the lofty glacier, 

That thro' the ci-evices came foaming down. 

And turned to rest me in the herdsmen's cots, 

Where I was host and guest, until tgained 

The cheerful homes and social haunts of men. 

Already thi-ough these distant vales had spread 

The rumour of tliis last atrocity ; 

And wheresoe'er I went, at every door. 

Kind words and gentle looks were there to greet me. 

I found these simple spirits all in arms 

Against our ruler's tyrannoiis encroachments. 

For as their Alps tlu'ough each succeeding year 

Yield the same roots,— their streams flow ever on 

In the same channels,— nay, the clouds and winds 

The self-same oom'se mialterably pursue, 

So have old customs there, from sii'C to son. 

Been handed down, unchanging and unchanged : 

Nor will they brook to swerve or turn aside 
, From the fixed even tenour of their life. 

AVith grasp of their hard hands they welcomed nie, — 

Took from the walls their rusty falchions down, — 

And from their eyes the soul of valour flashed 

With joj^il lustre, as I spoke those names, 

Sacred to every peasant in the mountains." 

In a few hours the staif of the oppressor was broken ; the cantons were once more free ; 
and Tell, waylaying Gessler, shot him to the heart. 

Similar results arose when other attempts were made on the liberties of the people, at 
a later date, until Leopold ascended the throne : a man filled with family pride, but of 
great personal courage, and burning with desire to avenge the reverses sustained by his 



36ii S■^V^TZERLAKD. 

ancestors in tlieir attempts against the freedom of Switzerland. Again, therefore, the 
people imited in a confederation to repel the aggressions of Austria. The chief ground 
of complaints was the enormous imposts placed on commerce, and the heavy tolls levied 
on produce carried to the market. The peasantry felt their very existence was at stake, 
and that imless the obnoxious taxes were removed, they must perish with hunger. 
Herman Gruner, the Lord of Grunenberg, had, in particular, rendered himself infamous 
in the eyes of the people by his cruel exactions. The peasantry of the canton of 
Lucerne were so roused by his tyranny, that some of the young men rose in arms, forced 
his castle gates while he was at mass, dismantled the fortifications, and drove him and 
his retainers out of the district, without losing a single man from their ranks. Fuel was 
thus poured freely on the long-stifled flame which had thus burst forth. The popular 
excitement was increased from day to day. The heated imagination of the populace 
conjured up visible signs and omens of a successful struggle. Flames of fire were said 
to leap nightly over the battlements of the lordly towers. A man without armour was 
seen in the heavens chasing another armed cap-d-pie. And natural appearances, which, 
at another time, would have passed unnoticed, were regarded as the sure presage of a 
speedy and glorious triiimph. 

Leopold, now returning from a victorious expedition against Alsace, swore to chastise 
the insolence of the confederation. The feudal lords announced their purpose of uniting 
with him, and in ten days the cantons received flft3--three declarations of war. The 
nobles were intenselj^ eager to blot out the disgrace of former years, and only regretted 
that they had enemies so little worthy of their swords. Uri, Schwitz, and Unterwald 
first rose in arms, and called on the other cantons to join them. Berne alone held 
back. Frightful atrocities were committed by the nobles in the first conflicts of the 
war. Eeichensee, a town which had given in' its adlierence to the Swiss, was taken by 
storm, and all who escaped the flames were put to the sword, without any distinction of 
age or sex. The army of Leopold was followed by carts to hang the prisoners. 

It was believed that the duke would attack Ziu'ich, as his father had done ; and the 
army of the confederates, numbering 12,000 men in all, hastened to occupy it. Suddenly 
changing then his line of march, he directed his whole force against Lucerne and the 
other unprotected cantons. The Swiss then left Zurich to the defence of the burghers, 
and followed him. On the 9 th of July, 1368, they took up their position in a forest on 
the borders of Lake Sempach. 

Leopold advanced to the attack with his splendid cavalry and mercenary infantry, 
composed chiefly of routicrs, or strolling bands, from the south of Europe. On arriving 
at the foot of the hill, the nobles dismounted and gave their horses to their squires, 
disdaining to fight in knightly fashion against "base-looking peasants." Great indeed 
was the contrast between the two armies. The Austrians, cased in steel from head to 
foot, marched onwards, 4,000 strong, with weapons glaring in the sun, and gilt helmets, 
glittering brightly, " in all the pomp, and pride, and circumstance of war," a spectacle 
that might well strike terror into the hearts of men less fearful than the hardy moiui- 
taineers, who, -n-ith heroic front, awaited the onset. It was the spirit indeed that 
sustained the man. For the arms of the Swiss were mostly scythes, clubs, or clumsy 
spears ; and their only defence against the weapons of their foes was in the rudest 
shields — ^boards fastened to their arms, to ward olf the first stroke ; while their whole 
number was 1,300 men. Truly is it said of Switzerland at this hoiir : — 

" Few were the nimiters slie could boast ; 
But every freeman was a host, 
And felt as though himself were he, 
On whose sole arm hung Tictoiy." 

The nobles formed a serried phalanx, the spears of the fourth rank projecting some feet 



ARNOLD STRTJTHAN HE ■V\7NKELIIEID. 339 

in front, and ttus advanced to the attack. The Baron de Ilazenburg, an experienced 
warrior, feared the determination of the Swiss, and advised the duke to send for a reserve 
which he had left behind, near Zurich. But his cautions were treated with scorn. The 
nobles, however, wished Leopold not to engage personally in the combat, or, at least, to 
remain on horseback ; but he replied, " What ! will Leopold of Austria look on while his 
barons are dying for him ? No ! I wiU either conquer or remain on the field ! " And 
now the cry arose, " Make way for liberty ! " 

" This day, this iioui' 

Annihilates the oppressor's power ! 
All Smtzerland is in the field, 
She will not fly, she cannot yield — 
She must not fall ; her better fate 
Here gives her an immortal date." 

But, though the Swiss rushed onwards to the encounter with loud cries, they were 
brought to a sudden halt, by a wall of steel. In vain did they attempt to break through . 
that forest of lances. Their best and bravest were flung back, bleeding, and almost in 
despair. Every moment their peril was increasing. The wings of the- Austrian army 
gradually advanced, so as to form a part of a circle, which, completed, would place them 
all within the very jaws of death. Who, then, shall forbid the enclosure, and quell this 
hostile and deadly power ? 

" It did depend oil one, indeed ; 
Behold him — Arnold Winkeh'eid. 
There sounds not to the trump of fame 
The echo of a nohler name. 

Unmasked he stood amid the thi'ong, . 

In ramiQation deep and long, 
Till you might see with sudden grace, 
The very thought come o'er his face ; 
And hy the motion of his form. 
Anticipate the hm-stiug storm ; 
And by the uplifting of his brow, 
Tell where the bolt would strike — and how. 
But 'twas no sooner thought than done ! 
The field was in a moment won : — 
' Make way for libej'ty ! ' he cried, 
Then ran with arms extended wide, 
As if his dearest friends to clasp ; 
Ten spears he swept within his grasp ; 
' Make way for liberty ! ' he cried, 
Their keen points met fi-om side to side ; 
He bowed against them Kke a tree, 
And thus made way for liberty. 
Swift to the breach his comrades fly ; 
' Make way for libertj- ! " they cry. 
And thi-ough the Austrian phalanx dart. 
As rushed the spears thi'ough Ai-nold's heart ; 
While, instantaneous as his fall, 
Rout, ruin, panic, scattered aU : 
An earthquake could not overthrow 
A city with a sm-er blow." 

The poet Montgomery is, at the same time, the historian. Arnold Struthan de Win- 
kelreid, a native of the canton of TJnterwalden (ever-honoured be his name), when all 
seemed lost, rushed forward on the bristling lances, crying, " I'll open a way for you ! 
Take care of my wife and children ! Switzerland for ever ! " 

z2 



340 



s^^■lTZE^vLA3;D. 



" He of battle-martyrs chief! 
-Who to recall his daunted fears, 
For victory shaped an open space, 
By gathering with a wide embrace. 
Into his single heart, a sheaf 
Of fatal Austrian spears." * 
"With sword and axe, the Swiss rushed into the opening, and the nobles were routed 
with terrific slaughter. Their squires had availed themselves of every horse, and their 




masters, eilcunibered with heavj^ armour, and unable to fly, were cut down, without 
mercy, for many a mile. 

Meanwhile, another hero was about to be numbered with the dead. The advoyer of 
Tiucerne, the valiant Gundoldingen, was dying of his wounds. To a coimtryman who 



THE SWISS CAXTOMS. 341 

approached, asking, as a sacred trust, the fulfilment of his last wishes, he replied, with a 
faltering voice, " TeU my feUow-citizens that the last advice of Gundoldingen was, never 
to allow any advoyer to continue in office longer than one year. This is the wish of one 
who praj's that they may be crowned with victory and prosperity ! " 
" Thus S-witzerland again was free ; 
Thus death made way for liberty ! " 
Of Winkelreid, we know nothing but his heroic act, and the last and noblest of his 
' words. A rude monument over the fountain of Stantz, the chief town of the canton of 
Untsrwalden, has been consecrated to his memory. His coat of mail was long preserved 
in the Arsenal, and on the way-side from Ennemort, a lonely and mouldering chapel, 
hoary with age, known as Winkelreid's chapel, stood till the beginning of the present 
centur}^ 

The history of Berne, could it be given entire, would not fail to prove exceedingly 
interesting. Situated in the western part of Switzerland, and bordering on the eastern 
cantons, it is surrounded on the north, west, and south by others, so that it may be 
regarded as the central one, and thus peculiarly fitted to become the head of the existing 
confederation. 

That canton was, from its commencement, the refuge not only of citizens and artisans, 
who sought security for their industry, but also of several noble families, who wished to 
associate their fortune with that of a city to which the)'- were strongly attached. In this 
way it is easy to account for the success of this peaceful community ; in early times it had 
able chiefs, who made it their glory to extend its boundaries, and an energetic population 
to execute their resolutions. 

Though it could not always dispense vdth foreign protection, it did so as soon as 
favourable circimistances permitted. Its spirit and energy were, indeed, often apparent. 
The young republic, for example, was threatened by the powerlal counts of Kibourg, 
and wanted a bridge over the Aar, but the count, who ruled on the right bank, forbade 
them to continue the work when it had been half completed. The Bernese had, 
therefore, recourse to their valiant friend and patron, Peter of Savoy, who was master of 
the Pays du Yaud, and who was surnamed Charlemagne the Small, and thanks to his 
pacific intervention, the bridge was finished. Soon after, Peter had to sustain a war ; 
when five hundred young Bernese marched to his help. On seeing them, Peter, in his 
joy, swore that, if he were victorious, he would grant the Bernese whatever they might 
demand. He gained a triumph, and the standard-bearer said to the count, " Wo wish 
for neither gold nor silver, but we beg you to give us back the letter of patronage which 
you received from us ; be no longer our master, be our friend !" The coimt, painfully 
surprised, kept his word ; he gave back the letter, and concluded with the Bernese a 
treaty of alliance which he maintained till his death. 

By this wise and courageous conduct, the republic prospered greatly in the thirteenth 
century ; it increased in population and territory, becoming the continual object of envy 
to the lords of the sui-rounding district ; and, unhappily, its sister, the citjr of Freyburg, 
which, like it, owed its birth to Ziiringeu, entered more than once into leagues formed 
against it. In 1298, the inhabitants of Freyburg, Louis Barm of Vaud, the counts 
Pierre de Gruyere and Eodolphe de Neuchatel, called out their troops for a campaign. 
The territory of Berne was invaded. This city then had as its allies Solem-e and the 
count of Kibourg ; but its forces wei'e far from equalling those of its enemies. On the 
other hand, it had at its head an intrepid warrior and hero, Ulrich, chevalier of Erlach. 
The enemy had taken up their position near the Donnerbuhel, or hill of thimder, at a 
little distance from the city. The Bernese rushed to the combat with eagerness. The 
terrible sound of the horn resounded in the woods. An impetuous attack of the troops, 
and a skilful manceuvre of their general, routed the enemy near Oberwangen, There 



343 SWITZEEL-US'D. 

were many dead and prisoners. Erlach re-entered the city in triiunpli -witli the 
disarmed captives and his Aactorious troops, who bore eighteen of the enemies' baimers 
into the church of St. Vincent. A military song celelorated this triumph. The bear, 
the symbol of Berne, spoke of it ia these terms : " I gained the reward and honour 
of the hunt ; I boldly risked my skin at the combat of Wangen, when I took many 
prisoners." 

Half a century had not elapsed when the same causes produced a greater storm. The 
seigneurs complained that Berne wished to take away the chief power from the nobles to ' 
give it to the people. They, therefore, resolved, at an assembly held at Nidan, on the 
borders of the lake of Brienne, to miite together and completely overthrow the ambitious 
city. The rumoui- of this great imdertaking spread beyond the Alps and the Jura. Help 
came to this league from Savoy and Upper Bourgoyne. Seven himdred seigneurs with 
towering helmets, fifteen hundred knights completely armed, three thousand cavaliers, 
and more than fifteen thousand infantrj'-, met against Berne, imder the comniand of 
the Count Gerard de Valangin, imperial bailiff of transjuran Bourgoyne. Thus the 
empire and a powerfid nobility threatened a single city, which appeared incapable of 
resistance. 

The little town of Laupen, situated on the Singine,^ three leagues from Berne, was 
besieged by the forces of the seigneurs. The bailiff sent for speedy reinforcements. It 
was decided in a general coimcil that of two brothers one should march, and six hundred 
men soon advanced imder Jean de Bourbenberg. They penetrated into the little town, 
resolved to defend it even unto death. The Bernese, who had attempted to satisfj'- the 
enemy by declaring themselves ready to satisfy just demands, saw that their only safety 
lay in fighting. But who shoidd be their chief ? They hesitated to appoiat him, well 
knowing that victory Avould depend on the choice they were about to make. 

As the council were deliberating, E.odolphe d'Erlach, eldest son of TJlrich, the 
conqueror at Donnerbuhel, was seen to enter the city on horseback. The knight of 
Erlach was both a A^assal of JSTidan and a citizen of Berne. He belonged to the two 
camps, and he would have Avished to contract an honourable peace. The count refused, 
and disdainfully allowed Erlach to go and fight in the ranks of his fellow-citizens. " It 
is," said he, "a trifling thing to me, one man out of two himdred helmets and a hundred 
and forty knights devoted to my service." Erlach said as he was goiag away : " Yes, it 
is a man that you lose, sir count, and. I Avill prove this to you." 

The sight of this bare warrior rejoiced the whole people ; it recalled the remembrance 
of his father and of Donnerbuhel. The command Avas conferred upon Bodolphe by 
acclamation. Then he rose and said to the assembled citizens : " I have been in six 
campaigns, and I have always seen the largest number defeated by the smallest ; good 
order is the sure way to victory. Artisans, sometimes intractable, if you love liberty, 
learn to obey, and you Avill preserve it. I do not fear the enemy. I will fight, with 
God's and yoiu' help, as in the days of my father ; but I Avill not be j'-ovu- general, unless I 
have absolute power." The commune promised obedience, and Erlach took the command. 

"Whilst the Bernese of the city and of the neighbourhood were fiocldng together 
beneath the standard, one of their number repaired, in haste, to the Swiss of the smaller 
cantons. They wei'e not bound to render them assistance ; nevertheless, they replied to 
the ambassador : " True friendship is proved in time of danger ; tell yom' brethren that 
they may rely upon the people of the Waldstatten." Several of the patriots of Switzer- 
land — Tell, Werner, Stauifacher, and others — Avere still living. They armed nine 
hundred men, who passed the Brunig, descended through the valleys, and encamped on 
the 20th of Jime, 1339, before Berne, where they found eighty horsemen from Soleure, 
AveU-armed and equipped. The women and children Avere at the foot of the altars ; alms 
were given, and solemn processions formed. 



BATTLE OF LAUTEN. 343 

At midnight, Erlacli gave orders to depart. By moouliglit, the nine hundred men 
from the Waldstatten, three hundred from Hasli, three hundi'ed from Sibenthal, four 
thousand citizens belonging to the city and neighbourhood, a body of horse, ^vith the 
eighty from Soleure, set out on their march, with the priest Diebold Baseloria at their 
head. From the toj) of the avails, women, old men, and children watched the progress 
of the army, till it disappeared ia the woods. 

When the armies faced each other on the Bramberg, near Laupen, they exchanged 
words of defiance and bravado. The seigneurs showed great impatience. One of the 
men of )Schwitz exclaimed, "Advance, who will, we are ready!" Erlaoh knew well 
what use he must make of his robust, A^aliant, but little experienced soldiers. He did 
not embarrass them by scientific tactics ; but he paid especial attention to the arrange- 
ment of his forces, and determined to profit by their enthusiasm to inflict one decisive 
blow. The men from the Waldstatten, had asked for the honouj? of fighting with the 
cavalry : he was obliged to grant it them. Erlaoh placed him opposite the enemies' 
infantry with his Bernese, and addressed them as follows : — " Where are you, 
joyous youths, whom we continually see at Berne, decked with flowers and feathers, the 
first at all the dances ? To-day, the honour of the city depends on you ! Here is the 
standard ! Here is Erlach ! " Then a select number of fine young fellows advanced 
from the ranks, and exclaimed, " Here we are, sire, we will be near you ! " And they 
surrounded the standard with heroic ardour. 

The battle began. Some of the vanguard, seeing the Bernese slingers draw back, as 
was usual, after a discharge, saw in this the signal for flight, and immediately disbanded ; 
Erlach cried out, " The victory is ours ; the cowards are leaving us." The infantry of 
the enemy was broken by the charge of the Bernese, after a rigorous resistance. At the 
hour of vespers, the conquerors flew to the help of the Swiss and men of Soleure, who 
had already checked the cavalry. At last they gave way, a great number of seujneurs 
perished. The whole plain was covered with arms and corpses. Eighty lords with 
towering helmets, and twenty-seven standards and their bearers, wei'e found on the field. 
After the pursuit, the troops met on the field of battle. All fell on their knees to 
thank God for having protected the army and the general. Erlach said to his soldiers, 
" I shall never forget that I owe this victory to the confidence of my fellow-citizens and 
to your valour, brave, loyal, beloved friends aud defenders from the Waldstatten and 
Soleure. When oiu' descendants shall hear the tale of this battle, they shall esteem most 
highly this mutual friendship ; in their dangers and their Ts'ars, they wiU. remember from 
what ancestors they are sprung." The victorious army passed the night on the field of 
battle, according to custom ; next day it entered the city of Berne ia triumph, bearing 
the captured banners and the arms of the seigneurs who had perished. It was decreed 
that the anniversary of the victory at Laupen should be a solemn festival. 

But, to resume oiu? descriptions: — one object, depicted by Rogers, which meets the view 
of the traveller in Switzerland, is crowded Avith historical associations : 
" That sacred lake, withdrawn among the hills, 

Its depth of waters flanked as with a wall 

Built hy the giant-race hefore the flood ; 

Where not a cross or chapel hut inspires 

Holy dehght, lifting our- thoughts to God 

From godlike men. 

That in the desert sowed the seeds of life, 

Training a hand of small repuhlies there. 

Which still exist, the envy of the world ! 

Who woxild not land in each and tread the ground — 

Land where Tell leaped ashore ? — I chmh to drink 

Of the three hallowed foiuatains ! He that does 

Comes back the better." 



344 



SWITZERIAND. 



Alluding to the lofty elevations aroimd, Sir James Macintosh says : " It is upon these 
that the superiority of the lake of Lucerne to all other lakes, so far as I know scenes on 
earth, depends. The vast mountains rising on every side and closing at the end with 
their rich clothing of wood, the sweet soft spots of verdant pasture scattered at their feet, 
and sometimes on their breasts, and the expanse of water, unbroken by islands, and 
almost undisturbed by any signs- of living men, make an impression which it would be 
foolish to attempt to convey in words. 

" The only memorials which would not disgrace such a scene are those of past ages, 
renowned for heroism and virtue, and no part of the world is more full of such venerable 
ones." 

Vier "VValdstatten See, the national name of this lake, means the waters of the four 
sylvan or riu'al states. Uri, Schwitz, and Underwald, are the three which first asserted 
their independence in 1307-8, and Lucerne was the first that joined their league in 1332. 




HOUSE OF GEdjLEK. 



The length of the lake between Lucerne and Fluellen is about twenty-five English 
miles. A steamer will conduct the traveller from one point to the other and back again 
in a few hoiirs. Should any apprehensions be indulged in reference to a passage by 
boat, they may at once be dismissed. The boatmen know well when a storm is 
impending, and discover no inclination to imperil themselves or their passengers ; and 
are well entitled to great confidence on the occurrence of a great emergency. 

The boatmen are accustomed to say that there is a new wind behind every promontory. 
But though it may blow from opposite points of the compass at the same time, the chief 
danger arises from the south wind. Still, accidents are very rare ; the boatmen either 
refusing to go out, from the anticipation of evil, or finding, on its occurrence, some place 
of safety. 

The lake is of an irregular shape. Each of its bays, bi-anching out in different 



TUB LAKE Or-I.UGERXE. 



345 



directions, is named from the chief town or village situated on it. The western branch 
only is, therefore, properly denominated the Lake of Lucerne. 

The scenery of the lake is extremely beautiful. If a boat be taken from Brunnen, 
soon after passing the magnificent entrance, through a lofty portal of mountains, marked 
by an insulated rock on the right, rising like a pillar out of the water, the traveller may 
land on an interesting spot. A triple fountain marks it as the scene where the companions 
of Tell assembled with him, five hundred years ago. Most hlsely, too, a peasant will 
bring forth an ancient cup, that he may drink out of a spring accounted sacred, and 
pronounce an oration in favour of Kberty. 

Further on, on the opposite shore, about the distance of two hours from this spot, is 
the rock on which Tell leaped on shore from the boat in which Gessler was carrying him 
away prisoner, and hence called the Tellensprung. Eighty-one years after the event, a 




THE LAKE OF SAENEN. 



chapel was constructed on this rock; where a hundred and fourteen persons, who had 
personally known him, were then living. It is in vain to cast doubt on the great 
adventure of Tell, because a similar incident is related by Saxo Gramaticus, a chroni- 
cler of the twelfth centurj"-, as having occurred about two centuries before. He lived 
at a period when information was much more widely diifused throughout Europe ; it 
was attested by historians who wrote in the following century, and it was adopted by 
universal tradition, as well as by chapels and paintings. 

" The Achsenberg, behind Tellensprung," says Simond, " was 5,340 feet above the sea ; 
but the chain of the Suren Alps, attaining almost everywhere the height of 10,000 feet, 
presents an uninterrupted succession of glaciers, easily distinguishable from- mere snows, 
by the azure streaks on their siu'face ; nothing can exceed the wild magnificence of 
this part of the lake. 



346 SWITZERLAND. 

" The boatman made us observe a wbitisli mark on the perpendicular face of the 
Frohn Alpe, about two miles north of the Tellensprung ; a piece of the rock having 
scaled off, fell into the lake in the year 1801. The fragment, which has left such a 
trifling blemish on the fair face of the mountain, was about 1,200 feet wide ; when it 
fell, it raised such a wave on the lake as overwhelmed five houses of the village of 
Sissigen, distant one mile ; eleven of the inhabitants were drowned ; but a child found 
floating asleep in its cradle, is now alive in the village. The swell occasioned several 
other accidents of less consequence, and was felt at Lucerne, thirty miles off ! To look 
at the mark, I should not have supposed that the fall coidd have occasioned more than a 
rippling along the adjacent shore." 

Altdorf, the capital of Uri, the humblest canton ia the confederation, is remarkable as 
the scene where the great feat of Tell is said to have taken place, which has long been 
marked by a stone fountain, surmounted by sculptures of the hero and his child. The 
lime-tree, on which Gessler's cap was placed, was, three centuries ago, a withered trunk. 

Wordsworth thus wrote : 

IN PEESENCE OF THE PAINTED TOWER OF TELL, AT ALTDOEF. 

TMs tower stands upon the spot where grew the linden tree, against which his son is said to have been 
placed when the father's archery was put to proof under circumstances so famous in Swiss story. 

What though the Italian pencil wrought not here, 
Nor such fine skill as did the meed bestow 
On Marathonian valour, yet the tear 
Springs forth in presence of this gaudy show, 
While narrow cares theii- limits overflow. 
Thi'ice happy, burghers, peasants, warriors old, 
Infants in arms, and ye, that as ye go 
Homeward or schoolward, ape what ye behold ; 
Heroes before yoiu' time, in frolic fancy bold ! 

And when that calm spectatress from on high 

Looks down — the bright and solitary moon, 

Who never gazes but to beautify ; 

And snow-fed torrents, which the blaze of noon 

Roused into fury, murmurs a soft tune 

That fosters peace, and gentleness recalls ; 

Then might the passing monk receive a boon 

Of saintly pleasure from these pictured walls, 

While, on the warKlM groups, the mellowing lustre falls. 

How blest the souls who, when their trials come, 
Yield not to terror or despondency, 
But face like that sweet boy theii- mortal doom. 
Whose head the ruddy apple tops, while he 
Expectant stands beneath the linden tree : 
He quakes not lUce the timid forest game, 
But smiles — the hesitating shaft to free ; 
Assured that Heaven its justice will proclaim, 
And to his father give its own unerring aim. 

A little to the left of the wood, on quitting Altdorf, is the village of Burglen, the 
birthplace of Tell; and just by is the scene of his death. He is said to have been 
drowned at a very advanced age, in 1358, in attempting to rescue a boy, who had fallen 
into the Schechen, a torrent by which his birth-place is traversed. Tradition states that 
he then filled the station of first magistrate. His family was not extinct tiU the year 
1720. Not far from Altdorf is the Lake of Sarnen. 

The St. Grothard range has long been famous for its mineral treasui-es, and nowhere in 
the Alps can they be met with in equal beauty and variety. Here, therefore, is a place 



PASS OF ST. GOTHAKD. di/ 

of annual rendezvous for the mineralogists of Europe, some of whom vie in enthusiasm 
with the zealous and energetic geologists whose labours we have already considered. 
Here very rare and costly specimens may be obtained to adorn and enrich the cabinets ■ 
already formed, and here the taste for such collections may be easily acquired. 

As the lofty region of winter is left, and a descent is made into the valley of Urseren, 
the village of Hospital presents a striking and picturesque appearance. The contrast is 
grateful, from a scene of desolation to white cottages of Swiss construction, and a church 
apparently the work of Germans. But should it be supposed that the habits of the 
latter prevail, the mind will be disabiised on entering the little town of Andermatt, the 
capital of the valley ; there the economy and customs of Switzerland are fully- 
apparent. 

It is probable that nowhere amidst the regions of the Alps can be found richer pastoral 
scenery, or more pleasing associations of patriarchal life, than in this valley. It extends 
from the Urnerloch, in the Teufelberg, to Moimt Furca, and occupies a space of about 
three leagues in length, by a quarter in breadth. Six small lateral valleys open into it, 
carrying their torrents into the Reuss, by which it is traversed through its entire length. 
It is probably the very highest land in Switzerland with a fixed population, and contains 
four villages. The winter lasts here full seven months ; and during the other five, a 
fire is generally necessary. The valley, shut in by primitive mountains, is entirely 
devoted to the grazing of cattle. 

From Fluellen on the lake of Lucerne, the Pass of St. Grothard may be reached. 
The origin of its name has been long in doubt. Thus, it has been traced to an idol 
worshipped there, and to the Celtic appellation it bore ; and it has been ascribed to 
the Groths, who, in the sixth century, established themselves in the valleys of the canton 
of Uri. But Brockedon considers the most probable origin of the name is from a chapel 
dedicated to St. Grothard, who was a bishop of Hildesheim in the twelfth century, 
in honour of whom the abbots of Disentis raised a chapel on these heights, which 
were within their jurisdiction. The name of St. Grothard is not limited, however, to 
the Col over which the road passes ; but distinguishes, in fact, a group of mountains, 
aU rising above the line of snow. 

Moimt St. Grothard is far from being the highest mountain in Switzerland ; its highest 
summits being only 11,250 feet high, yet here is the central point of its vast chains, and 
from its sides several of the greatest rivers of Europe take their rise. To the east, the 
Rhine descends down the cold pastoral valley below Disentis, and winds its way through 
the solitudes of the Grisons to the German plains : on the west, the Rhone leaps at once 
a mighty spring from the huge and glittering glacier which bears its name; on the 
north, the Reuss descends in a headlong impetuous torrent through the vaUey of Schollen 
to the Lake of IJri, and pursues its way, mingled with the waters of the Rhine, to the 
German Ocean ; while to the south, the Tessino, issuing from the snowy summit of the 
pass by which the traveller crosses into Italy, is rapidly swelled by the torrents from the 
adjoining glaciers, forces its way in a raging torrent through the rocks of Eaido, and is 
already a noble stream when it swells into the lovely expanse of the Lago Maggiore, ere 
it rolls its tributary waters to the Po. 

The desolate summit of the St. Gothafd pass is scarcely entitled to the name of a plain. 
The hospice is of early date, existing first, it is said, in the 13th centiiry. It was 
destroyed by an avalanche in 1755, and afterwards rebuilt on a larger scale. The pre- 
sent edifice was erected, like other houses of refuge in the pass, by the canton Tessin, or 
Tessino. 

A zigzag path in the descent is remarkable ; for towards the pass the mountains close 
in, and scarcely leave roo"m for the mule-path and the torrent which passes through it. 
" It is not," says Simler, " that the bridge trembles, and is therefore called the Ponte 



348 



SWITZERLAND. 



Tremola, but that the passengers here begin to shake and tremble with dread at the sight 
of the ravine, and fear of the dangers that they have to encounter there." Some pass it. 




K04D IN IHE ST. GOTHAED PASS. 



however, as Brockedou did, without the due exhibition of terror. In continuing the 
descent towards Italy, many terraces appear, exhibiting much skilful engineering. They 
begin a little above the hospice, and accompany the traveller almost to Airolo. 




HOSPICE OF THE SI, GOTHAED PASS. 



On quitting the green meadows of Andermatt, the road is carried through the Verner- 
loch, a gallery excavated with great labour and ingenuity, through the projecting flanks 



THE DEVIL S BRIDGE. 349 

of the Teufelsberg — a work of incalculable advantage. Prior to its coinpletion, this pass 
was one of the most dangerous in the Alps, consisting of a rude scaflPolding of wood, sup- 
ported from the exterior of the rock, and hanging doubtfully over the boiling chasm 
beneath. Through the long course of centuries, all traffic between the valley of the 
Reuss and that of the Levantine was exclusively maintained along this lofty and ill- 




ZIG-ZAG ROAD IN THE ST. GOTHARD PASS. 



secured suspension-bridge. The doubling of this promontory was considered by old 
travellers to require no little courage and self-possession. To Moretini, of Locarno, 
belongs the credit of this great work, which has been improved by later eno-ineers. 

"The next object of attraction," says Dr. Beattie, "and which we reach by a steep 
descent, is the far-famed Devil's Bridge, constructed originally, it is stated, in 1118, bv 



350 SWITZERIANI). 

Griraldus, abbot of Einsiedeln. The span of tbe arch is seventy-five feet, and its height, 
from the surface of the water to the kej^stone, about one hu.ndred ; but as the arch spans 
a cataract almost vertical in its descent, the bridge thus acquires an elevation of at least 
two hundred feet additional. The whole scene is full of savage grandeur. The granite 
rocks rise sheer and unbroken from the water's edge, and as if they bent in mutual 
approximation over our heads, and threatened to obliterate the dismal path which the 
labour of ages has chiselled out of their flanks, or carried on arches along the brink of 
the torrent. What a contrast is here, to the green, oblivious landscape, through which, 
but an hour before, we had sauntered, with scarcely any feeling save that of pleasing 
apathy — where the objects presented to the eye were not such as to raise the mind into 
action, but left it to the fidl enjoyment of its own dreamy listlessness. But here, the 
deafening roar of the surge, as it struggled in savage conflict with the opposing rocks, 
and leaped, and foamed, and thundered forth its hoarse song of triumph — the feeling of 
personal danger, the shalting of the low parapet where we stood, the beetling cliffs along 
whose flanks the sheeted vapour floated in thin, transparent folds ; while sudden gusts and 
currents of Avind, caused by the rapidity of the torrent, alternately condensed, and 
dissijDated, and renewed these storm-bred exliibitions, and swept them, like showers, in 
the spectator's face — all burst upon us with a novelty and power which baffle 
description. 

" The new bridge, even while we stand on its centre — itself twenty-seven feet higher 
than the old one — seeins forgotten, amidst the awful appendages by which it is enclosed ; 
yet, in the solidity of its structure, boldness of design, and airy exjDanse of arch, we have 
seen nothing — the passage of the Via Mala excepted — which affords more striking 
evidence how the genius and daring of men may triumph over the most gigantic 
obstacles. In contemplating a scene like the present, a strange spell seems to rivet us to 
the spot ; and, while a multitude of horrid imaginings throng thick iipon the fancy, and 
carry us back to the fearful drama enacted in this gorge, the clang of arms, the shout of 
combatants, arise confusedly with the blustering of the waves ; then the crash of the 
dividing arch, the shrieks of despair as the victims sank, and men swept down by the 
devouring surge — all pass rapidly before the miad's eye, and conjure up that dismal 
tragedy, in all its truth and intensity ; and never was there theatre more congenial for 
the display of the wildest passions, or more in unison with every imaginable horror, than 
that of the Devil's Bridge. But to see and to feel this in all its force, the spectator 
must be alone with nature." 

The allusion of the writer, in this passage, is to a most determined struggle between 
the Russians and the French in 1799. Accumulating his forces, Soult skilfully and 
rapidly passed the Linth. One hundred and fifty volunteers first swam across the river, 
with their sabres in their teeth, during the darkness of the night, and aided by the 
artillery from the French side, speedily dispersed the Austrian posts on the right bank, 
and protected the disembarkation of six companies of grenadiers, who soon afterwards 
made themselves masters of Schenis. Wakened by the sound of the cannon, Hotze ran 
with a few officers and a slender escort to the spot, and fell dead by the first discharge of 
the Republican videttes. This calamitous event threw the Austrians into great 
consternation, and proved to be one of the most serious disasters. 

Suwarroff, now intent on forcing the passage of the St. Grothard, arrived at Airolo, at the 
foot of the mountain, where General Gudin was strongly posted, with 4,000 men, covering 
both the direct road over the St. Gothard, and the path which led diagonally to the Furca. 
Two days after, the attack was commenced -nith the utmost resolution by the Russian 
troops ; but, in spite of all their efforts, they were arrested in the steep zig-zag ascent above 
Airolo by the rapid and incessant fire of the French tirailleurs. In vain the Russians, 
marching boldly up, answered by heavy platoons of musketry ,' their fire, however 



StrVVAEUOFF. 351 

sustained, could produce little impression on detaclied parties of sharp-shooters, vrho^ 
posted behind roclis and scattered fir trees, caused every shot to tell upon the dense array 
of their assailants. Irritated at the unexpected obstacles, the old marshal advanced to 
the front, lay down in a ditch, desired his soldiers to dig a grave, and declared his 
resolution " to be buried there, where his children had retreated for the first time." 

With renewed energy he now assailed the French forces, and Lecarbe had no 
alternative but a rapid retreat. During the night, therefore, he threw his artillery into 
the Reuss, and retired down the valley of Schollenen, breaking down the Devil's-bridge 
to impede the progress of the enemj^, while Gudin scaled the Furca by moonlight, 
descended by the glacier of the Rhone, and again ascending, took post on the inhos- 
pitable summit of the Grrimsel. On the following morning the united Russian forces 
approached the Devil's-bridge ; but they found an impassable guK, two himdi'ed 
feet deep, surmounted by precipices above a thousand feet high, which stopped the 
leading companies, while a di-eadfid fire from all the rocks on the opposite side swept off 
the brave men who approached the edge of the abyss. Hearing the firing in front, the 
column of Bagrathion pressed on, in double qiuck time, through the dark passage of the 
Urnerloch, and Kterally, by their pressure, drove the soldiers in front headlong over the 
rocks into the foaming Reuss. At length the officers, tired of the fruitless butchery, 
despatched a few companies across the Reuss to scale the rocks on the left, by which the 
post of the bridge was taken, and beams being thro-mi rapidly across, the Russian troops, 
with loud shouts passed the terrific defile, and pressing hard on their antagonists, 
compelled them to flee. 

Wot far from the simimit of the pass, the rude inscription appears in large letters on 
the face of a rock, " Suwakroff Yicron ;" a memorial of one of the achievements of the 
great Russian general. Alison says, — 

" The passage of the St. Bernard, by Napoleon, has been the subject of unmeasured 
eulogiiun by almost all the French historians ; but, nevertheless, in the firmness with 
which it was conducted, the difficidties with which it had to contend, and the resolution 
displayed in its execution, it must yield to the Alpine campaign of the Russian hero. In 
crossing from Martigny to Jorea, the first consul had no enemies to overcome, no lakes to 
pass, no hostile army to vanquish ; after the obstacles of natiu'e had been sm-moimted, the 
difficidty of the ascent and the roughness of the road constituted the only serious impedi- 
ments to the march. But, in passing from Bellinzona to Altdorf by the St. Gothard, 
Suwarroff' had to encoimter not merely a road of greater length and of equal difficulty, 
but to force his way, sword in hand, through columns of the enemy, long trained to 
mountain warfare, intimately acquainted with the country, under a leader of pre-eminent 
skill in that species of tactics ; and to do this with troops as ignorant of Alpine geo- 
graphy as those of France would have been of the passes of the Caucasus. 

" When he descended, like a mountain torrent, to the lake of Uri, overthrowing every 
thing in his cotirse, he found his progress stopped by a deep expanse of water, shut in by 
precipices on either side, without roads on,its shores, or a bark on its bosom, and received 
the inteUigence of the total defeat of the army with which he came to co-operate under 
the walls of Zurich. Obliged to defile by the rugged paths of tlie Schachenthal to the 
canton of Glarus, he was, ere long, enveloped by the victorious colunans of the enemy, 
and his front and rear assailed at the same time by superior forces, flushed with recent 
conquest. It was no ordinary resolution which, in such circimistances, coidd disdain to 
submit, and, after fiercely turning on his pursuers, and routing their bravest troops, 
prepare to surmount the difficulties of a fresh mountain passage, and, amidst the horrors 
of the Alps of Glarus, brave alike the storms of winter and the pursuit of the enemy. 
The bvdk of men in all ages are governed by the event ; and to such persons the passage 
of the St. Bernard, foliowed as it was by the triumph of Marengo, wiU always be the 



riOa SWITZERLAND. 

highest object of interest. But without detracting from the well-earned fame of the 
French general, it may safely be affirmed that those who know how to separate just 
combination from casual disaster, and can appreciate the heroism of valour when , 
struggling with misfortune, will award a still higher place to the Russian hero, and 
follow the footsteps of Suwarroff over the snows of the St. Gothard and the valley of 
Seruft with more interest than either the eagles of ISTapoleon over the St. Bernard, or the 
standards of Hannibal from the shores of the Rhone to the banks of the Po." 




VIEW NEAR LUCERNE. 

The canton of Lucerne is bounded on the north by Aargau, on the east by Schwitz 
and Zug, on the south by Unterwalden, and on the west by Berneo. It's area i? 
estimated at 657 miles. The declivity of the valleys is towards the north-west and the 
north-east. The southern part of the canton belongs to the basin of the Reuss, which 
issues out of the Waldstatten Lake at the town of Lucerne, and flows in a north-east 
direction into Aargau. Below Lucerne the Reuss is joined by the Wald Emme, which 



354 SWITZERLAND. 

rises at tlie south-west extremity of tlie canton, rims northward tlirougli the fine district 
called tlie Entlibiicli, and then flows north-east until it meets the Reiiss. A succession 
of high grounds, running- across the middle of the canton, divides the basin of the Eeuss 
from that of the Aar, to which latter river the northern part of Lucerne belongs. The 
Suhren flows out of the Sempacher Lake, which is in the centre of the canton, and from 
this part of Switzerland other waters have their rise. 

The only mountains in the ctinton are at its southern extremity, on the borders of the 
TJnterwaklen and the Bernese Oberland. None of them attain the limits of perpetual 
snow. The highest is Mount Pilatus, south-west of the town of Lucerne, and a 
conspicuous feature in its landscape. It is, in fact, a mountain group, nearly thirty 
miles in length, extending along the borders of Lucerne and Unterwalden, and having 
seven peaks or summits. 

The name of PQatiis is said to be derived from the Latin word " pileatus," because the 
mountaia-top is often covered with clouds as with a hat. The local legend of the 
peasantry derives it from, Pilate, the governor of Judea, who is said to have wandered 
into Helvetia, and to have drowned himself in a lake on this mountain. It is also called 
Fracmont, " Monsfractus," because its sides, especially towards Lucerne, look broken, 
craggy, and inaccessible. The southern side towards Alpnach, in Unterwalden, is less 
abrupt, and it is covered with forests which belong to that canton. The most practicable 
path for ascending the mountain is on that side. The view from its summit is very 
extensive. The soil of Lucerne is fertile ; it is one of the very few cantons of Switzer- 
land which produces more corn than it consumes, and the excess is purchased by the 
neighbouring cantons. Fruit trees are also abundant, but the vine is cultivated only in 
some favourable situations. The rearing of cattle is the principal branch of industry in 
a great part of the canton, especially in the Entlibiich. In some districts of the canton 
are manufacturers of linen and cotton goods. The trade between Switzerland and Italy 
by the St. Gothard, employs a number of people, and all the goods pass through Lucerne 
and the lake of the Waldstatten. 

The town of Lucerne is situated at the western extremity of the lalce, and is divided 
into two unequal parts by the Eeuss, which rises out of it. The larger part, which is on 
the right bank, is built on the slope of a hill, and the whole is surrounded by old walls 
flanked by houses, and has a fine appearance from the lake, being in the midst of a 
delightfid and well-wooded country, interspersed with neat dwellings, with Mount 
Pilatus rising on one side, and Mount Eighi on the opposite side of the lake. The 
interior of the town is not so pleasant, the streets being narrow, imeven, and iU-paved. 
The three covered wooden bridges are its chief curiosities ; they are built on the lake, 
and serve as a promenade. 

The Hofbriicke, the largest of them, was originally 1,380 feet in length, but it has lost 
within the last twenty years, a fifth of " its fair proportions." Eude old sketches adorn 
these bridges ; all the scenes of the Old Testament being suspended above on one, and all 
the scenes of the New on another. In the roof of one bridge are represented the heroic 
personages of native Swiss history, and in another the strange array of Holbein's Dance 
of Death. Wordsworth says, that " these pictures are not to be spoken of as works of 
art, but they are. instruments admirably answering the purpose for which they were 
He thus beautifully alludes to some of these devices : — 
" One after one its Tablets that imfold 

The whole design of Scriptui'e history ; 

From the fii'st tasting of the fatal Tree, 

Till the bright star appeared in eastern sides, 

Announcing One was born mankind to free ; 

His acts, his wi'ongs, his final sacrifice ; 

Lessons for everj- heart, a Bible for all eyes. 



LUCERNE. 355 

" Long may these homely works de-^dsed of old, 
These simple efforts of Helvetian skill, 
Aid, with congenial influence, to uphold 
The State,— the Country's destiny to mould ; 
Tm-ning, for them who pass, the common dust 
Of servile opportunity to gold ; . 

PiUing the soul with sentiments august. 
The heaiitiful, the brave, the holy, and the just ! " 
• One of the most remarkable things Lucerne contains, is a topographic map, in relief 
of the coimtry round the Waldstatten See. It was constructed of wax, pasteboard, and 
resin, by the late General PyfFer, and cost him ten years of labour. It is twentj'-two 
feet long, and thirteen wide, and contains the cantons of Uri, Schwitz, Unterwalden, 
Zug, and part of Lucerne. 

In a secluded spot, near Lucerne, is the monument erected in 1821 to the memory of 
the Swiss guards who fell in defence of the Tuilleries against the mob of Paris, on the 
10th of August, 1792. It consists of a wounded and dying lion, of colossal size, in alto- 
relievo, sculptured on the side of a rock, in a kind of niche. The model for it was sent 
by Thorwaldsen from Rome. The names of the officers, twenty-six in number, who with 
seven hundred and sixty soldiers fell on that memorable occasion, as well as those of the 
sixteen officers who, with about three hundred and fifty of the soldiers that survived, are 
engraved underneath. The lion is represented grasping a shield with a fieur-de-lis upon 
it, and a bundle of broken arms, with the Swiss cross, are lying on one side. It is 
the work of Ahorne, a sculptor of Constance. 

The neighbourhood of Lucerne recals to the mind a terrific catastrophe. 
" Mountains have fallen. 
Leaving a gap in the clouds, and with the shock 
Rooking their Alpine hrethi-en ; filling up 
The ripe green valleys with destruction's splinters ; 
Damming the rivers with a sudden dash 
Which crushed the waters into mist, and made 
Their fountains find another channel — thus, 
Thus, in its old age, did Jlount Rosenberg." 
The simuner of 1806 had been very showery, and on the first and second of September 
it rained incessantly. In the side of the mountain neAV crevices were observed, a sort of 
crackling noise was heard internally, stones started out of the grornid, detached frag- 
ments of rocks rolled down the moimtain ; and in the afternoon of the second of Septem- ■ 
ber, a larger rock became loose, and in falling raised a cloud of black dust. At the 
lower part of the moimtain the ground seemed pressed down from above, and when a 
stick or a spade was driven in, it moved of itself. Soon after this a fissure, larger than 
all the rest, was observed almost insensibly to increase ; springs of water ceased suddenly 
to flow, the pine trees reeled, and the birds flew screaming away. 

Two or three hours after this the symptoms of some mighty catastrophe became still 
stronger ; the whole surface of the mountain began to slide slowly dowm, but the inhabit- 
ants had sufficient time to run away. An old man who had often predicted some such 
disaster, was qixietly smoking his pipe, when told by a young man, running by, that the 
mountain was in the act of falling ; he rose and looked out, but went into his house 
again, saying he had time to fiU another pipe. The yoimg man, continuing to fly, was 
thrown down several times, and escaped with difficulty ; looldng back, he saw the house - 
carried ofi' all at once. 

Another of the inhabitants, being alarmed, took two of his children and ran away with 
them, calling to his wife to foUow with the third ; but she went in for another, who still 
remained — Marianne, aged five. Just then Francisca Ulrich, their servant, was crossing 
the room with this Marianne, whom she held by the hand, and saw her mistress ; at that 

2 A 2 



356 



SWITZTERFAM). 



instant, as Francisca afterwards said, "the house appeared to be torn from its foundation 
(it was of wood), and spun round and round like a tetotum ; I was sometimes on my 
head, sometimes on my feet, in total darkness, and violently separated from the child." 
When the motion stopped she found herself jammed in on all sides, with, her head down- 
wards, much bruised, and in extreme pain. She supposed she was bui'ied alive at a great 
depth ; with much difficulty she disengaged her right hand and wiped the blood from 
her eyes. 

Presently she heard the faint moans of Marianne, and called to her by name ; tlie 
child answered that she was on her back among stones and bushes, which held her fast, 



"-r^0^- 




MAPKET AT LUCERNE. 



but that her hands were free, and that she saw the light, and even something green ; she 
asked whether people would not soon come to take them out. Francisca answei-ed that 
it was the day of judgment, and that no one was left to help them, but that they would 
be released by death, and be happy in heaven ; they then prayed together. At last 
Francisca's ears were struck by the sound of a bell, which she knew to be that of 
Stenenberg ; then seven o'clock struck in another village, and she began to hope there 
were still living beings, and endeavoured to comfort the child ; the poor little girl was at 
first clamorous for her supper, but her cries soon became fainter, and at last quite died ' 
away. Francisca, with her head still downwards, and surrounded by dainp earth, 



•ALL OF THE KOSSBLEG. 



experienced a sense of cold in her feet almost insupportable ; after prodigious efforts, she 
succeeded in disengaging her legs, and thinks this saved her life. 

Many hours had passed in this situation, when she again heard the voice of Marianne, 
who had been asleep, and now renewed her lamentations. In the meantime, the 
unfortunate father, who, with much difficulty, had saved himself and two children) 
-wandered about till daylight, when he came among the ruins to look for the rest of his 
family : he soon discovered his wife, by a foot which appeared above ground ; she wai 
dead, with a child in her arms. His cries and the noise he made digging were heard by 
Marianne, who called out. She was extricated with a broken thigh, and saying that 
Francisca was not far off, a further search led to her release also, but in such a state that 
her life was despaired of; she was blind-for some days,-and remained subject to convulsive 
fits of terror. It appeared, on subsequent examination, that the house, or themselves at 
least, had been carried down about 1,500 feet. - 

In another place a child two years old was found unhurt, lying on its straw mattress 
upon the mud, without any vestige of the -house from which it had been separated. 
Such a mass of earth and stones rushed at once into the lake of Lowertz, although five 
miles distant, that one end of it was filled up, and a prodigious wave passed completely 
over the island of Schwauan, seventy feet above the usual level of the water, overwhelmed 
the opposite shore, and, as it returned, swept away into the lake many houses with their 
inhabitants. The chapel of Olten, built of wood, was found half a league from the place 
it had previously occiipied, and many large blocks of stone completely changed their 
position. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

ASCENTS OF THE RIGHI — THE LAKE AND TOWN OF ZUG — THE CiOTJ'ON OF SCHWITZ. 

The Eighi, or Rigi, is a mountain, or rather a group of mountains, rising between the 
lakes of Lucerne and Zug. It is composed, like the fallen rocks of the Rossberg, of 
rounded fragments of all kinds and ages, granitic and calcareous, slate and basalt, crystals 
and organic remains,. All the mountains, indeed, extending from the south end of the 
lake of Constance to the east end of the lake of Geneva, are composed of such rounded 
fragments, agglomerated by a common cement, and so hard that they break rather than 
come loose. The form of these fragments suggested the name of nagelflue, nail-head, 
while the agglomerated mass bears also the no less descriptive appellation of pudding- 
stone. This formation is not found here in irregular heaps, but in distinct strata of 
various thickness, parallel to each other, and generally separated by thin earthy strata ; 
they all dip more or less to the south-east, presenting to the north-west their transverse 
sections. 

The most considerable of the villages, overwhelmed in the vale of Arth, was Goldau, 
and with it is connected a melancholy circumstance which must now be told. A party of 
eleven travellers from Berne, belonging to the most distinguished families, arrived at Arth, 
and set off on foot for the Righi a few minutes before the catastrophe. Seven of them had 
gone about 200 yards ahead, the other four saw them entering the village of Goldau, and 
one of the latter pointed out to the rest the summit of the Rossberg — full four miles off 
in a straight line — where some strange commotion seemed to be taking place. The others 
were, at the same time, observing it with a telescope, and had entered into conversation 
on the subject with some strangers who had just come ujd ; when, aU at once, a flight of 
stones, like cannon balls, traversed the air above their heads, a cloud of dust obscured the 
vallejr, a frightful noise was heard, and they fled. As soon as the obsciu'ity was so far 
dissipated as to render objects discernible, they sought their friends, but the village of 
Goldaii had disappeared under a heap of stones and rubbish 100 feet in height, while the 
whole valley was a perfect chaos. Of the unhappy survivors, one lost a wife to whom he 
was just married, one a son, a third the two pupils under his care ; and all researches to 
discover their remains proved fruitless. 

Dr. Cheever has given the utmost force to his highly graphic pen, when describing his 
ascent of the Righi, and we shall avail ourselves of some of his statements, which are 
fully sustained by those of a friend of the writer, who has still more recently followed in 
his steps. 

" It was the 6th of September, and the most perfectly beautiful morning that can be 
imagined. At a quarter past three the stars were reigning supreme in the heavens, with just 
enough of the old moon left to make a trail of light in the shape of a little silver boat 
among them. But speedily the horizon began to redden over the eastern range of mountains, 
and then the dawn stole on in such a succession of deepening tints, that nothing but the ^ 



ASCENT OF THE RIGHI. 3g9 

hues of the preceding sunset could be more beautiful. But there is this great difference 
between the sunrise and sunset, that the hues of sunset are every moment deepening as 
you look upon them, until again they fade into the darkness, while those of the sunrise 
gradually fade into the light of day. It is "difficult to say which process is most 
beautiful ; for if you could make everything stand still around you, if you could 
stereotype or stay the process for an horn-, you could not teU whether it were the morning 
dawn or the evening twilight. 

"A few long, thin stripes of fleecy cloud lay motionless above the eastern horizon, like 
layers of silver lace, dipped first in crimson, then in gold, then in pinli, then lined with 
an ermine of light, just as if the moon had been lengthened in soft furrows along the 
sky. This scene in the east attracts every eye at first, but it is not here that the glory of 
the view is to be looked for. This glory is in that part of the horizon on which the sun 
first falls, as he struggles up behind the mountains to flood the world with light. And 
the reason why it is so glorious is because, long before you call it sunrise in the east, he 
lights up in the west a range of colossal pyres, that look like blazing cressets kindled 
from the sky and fed with naphtha. 

" The object most conspicuous as the dawn broke, and indeed the most sublimely 
beautiful, was the vast enormous range of the' snowy mountains of the Oberlaind, without 
spot or vail of cloud or mist to dim them, the Finsteraarhorn at the left, and the 
Jungfrau and Silberhorn at the right, peak after peak and mass after mass, glittering 
with a cold wintry whiteness in the gray dawn. Almost the exact half of the circum- 
ference of the horizon commanded before and behind in our view, was filled with these 
peaks and masses of snow and ice, then, lower down, the mountains of bare rock, 
and lower still the earth with mounts of verdure ; and this section of the horizontal 
circumference, which is filled with the vast ranges of the Oberland Alps, being almost 
due west from the suja's first appearance, it is on their tops that the rising rays first 
strike. 

" This was the scene for which we watched, and it seems as if nothing in nature can 
ever again be so beautiful. It was as if an angel had flown round the horizon of 
moimtain ranges, and lighted ap each of their white pyramidal points in succession, like 
a row of gigantic lamps burning with rosy fires. Just so the sim suddenly tipped the 
highest points and lines of the snowy outline, and then, descending lower on the body of 
the mountains, it was as if an invisible omnipotent hand had taken them, and dipped the 
whole range in a glowing pink ; the line between the cold snow untouched by the 
sunlight, and the warm roseate hue above, remaining perfectly distinct. This effect 
continued some minutes, becoming, up to a certain point, more and more beautifid. 

" "We were like children in a dark room, watching for the lighting up of some great 
transparency. Or, to use that image with which the poet Dante endeavoured to describe 
the expectant gaze of Beatrice in Paradise, awaiting' the splendours to be I'evealed, we 
might say, connecting some passages, and adapting the imagery, — _ 

'E'en as the bird who midst the leafy hower 
Has in her nest sat darkling through the night, 
With her sweet brood ; impatient to descry 
Their wished looks, and to bring home their food 
In the fond quest unconscious of her toil : 
She of the time prevenient, on the spray 
That overhangs theii" couch, mth wakeful gaze 
- Expects the sim ; nor ever till the dawn 

Eemoveth from the east her eager ken. 
Wistfully thus we looked to sec the heavens 
Wax more and more resplendent, till on earth 
Her mountain peaks biu'ned its with rosy flame, 



SAVITZEIIL.VXD. 

'Twixt gladness and amaze 
In sooth no will had we to ntter ought, 
Or hear. And as a pilgrim, -when he rests 
Within the temple of his vow, looks round. 
In breathless awe, and hopes some time to tell 
Of all its goodly state ; even so our eyes 
Coursed up and down along the living light, 
Now low, and now aloft, and now around 
Visiting every step. Each mount did seem 
Colossal ruby, whereon so inwrought 
The sunbeam glowed, yet soft, it flamed intense 
In ecstasy of glory.' , 



In truth, no word was uttered when that scene became visible. Each person gazed in 




CHAPEL OF TIIL RIGHI. 



silence, or spake as in a whisper. It was as if we witnessed some supernatural revelation, 
where mighty spirits were the actors between earth and heaven ; ■ 
' With such ravisUng light 

And mantling crimson, in transparent air. 

The splendours shot before us.' 
And yet a devout soul might have almost felt, seeing those fires kindled as on the altars 
of God made visible, as if it heard the voices of seraphim crying, Holy, Hoi}-, Holy is 
the Lord of Hosts, the whole earth is full of his glory ! For indeed, the vision was so 
radiant, so full of sudden, vast, and unimaginable beauty and splendour, that melhinks 
a phalanx of the sons of God, who might have been passing at that moment, could not 
have helped stopping and shouting for joy as on the morning of creation. 



THE KIGHI. 



361 



■ This was the transient view, which to behold, one might well undertake a voyage 
)ss the Atlantic ; — of a glory and a beauty indescribable, and no where else in the 




world to be enjoyed, and here onl3^in perfect weather. After these few moments, when 
the sun rose so high, that the whole masses of snow upon the mountain ranges were 
lighted with the same rosy light, it grew rapidly fainter, till you coidd no longer distin- 



db<5 SWITZERLAND. 

guisli the deep exquisite piuk and rosy liues by means of their previous contrast with the 
cold white. Next the sun's rays fell upon the bare rocky peaks, where there was 
neither snow nor vegetation, making them shine like jasper, and next on the forests and 
grassy slopes, and so down into the deep bosom of the vales. The pyramidal shadow 
cast by the Eighi moimtain was most distinct and beautiful, but the atmospheric pheno- 
menon of the spectre of the Eighi was not visible. 

" This amazing panorama is said to extend over a circumference of three hundi-ed miles. 
In all this region, when the upper glory of the heavens and mountain peaks has ceased 
playing, then, as the sim gets higher, forests, lakes, hills, rivers, trees, and villages, at first 
indistinct and gray in shadows, become flooded with sunshine, and almost seem floating 
up towards you. There was for us another feature of the view, constituting by itself one of 
the most novel and charming sights of Swiss scenery, but which does not always accom- 
pany the panorama from the Eighi, even in a fine morning. On earth, the morning 
may be too fine. This was the soft smooth white body of mist, lying on most of the 
lakes and on the vales, a sea of mist, floating, or rather brooding, like a white dove, over 
the landscape. The spots of land at first visible in the midst of it were just like islands 
half emerging to the view. It lay over the bay of Kussnacht at our feet, like the white 
robe of an infant in the cradle, but the greater part of the lake of Lucerne was sleeping 
quietly without it, as an undressed babe. Over the whole of the lake of Zug the mist 
Avas at first motionless, but in the breath of the morning it began slowly to move alto- 
gether towards the west, disclosing the village of Arth and the verdurous borders of the 
lake, and tlien uncovering its deep sea-green waters, which reflected the lovely saUing 
shadows of the clouds as a mirror. 

" Now the church bells began to chime under this body of mist, and voices from the 
invisible villages, mingled with the tinlde of sheep-bells, and the various stir of life 
awakening from sleep, came stilly up the mountain. And now some of the mountain 
peaks themselves begin suddenly to be touched with fleeces of cloud, as if smoking with 
incense in morning worship. Detachments of mist begin also to rise from the lakes and 
vallej^s, moving from the main body up into the air. The villages, chalets, and white 
roads, dotting and threading the vast circimaference of landscape, come next into view. 
And now on the lake of Zug you may see reflected the shadows of clouds that have risen 
from the surface, but are themselves below us. 

" It is said you can see fourteen lakes from the place where we are standing. I coimted 
at least twelve last evening, before the night-vail of the mist had been drawn above them, 
but this morning the goings on in the heavens have been too beautiful and grand to take 
the time for counting them, and besides, they are too much enveloped with the slow- 
retiring fogs to detect them. On the side of the Eighi, imder the eastern horizon, you 
behold the little lake of Lower tz, mth the ruins of the village of Goldau, destroyed by 
the slide of the Eossberg, and you trace distinctly the path of the destroying avalanche, 
the vast groove of bare rock where the mountain separated and thundered down the vale. 

"All this wondrous panorama is before us. Whatever side we turn, new points of 
beauty are disclosed. As the day advances, every image, fully defined, draws to its 
perfect place in the picture. A cloudless noon, with its still solemnity, would make 
visible, for a short time, every height and depth, every lake, mountain, town, streamlet, 
and village, that the eye could reach from this position, and then would pass again the 
lovely successive transitions of shade deepeniug into shade, and colours richlier burning 
into the blaze of simset, and the soft melancholy twilight, till nothing coidd be seen from 
our high position but the stars in heaven. In a few hours we have witnessed, as on a 
central observatory, what the poet Young calls 

' The astonisliing magnificence 

Of uniutelligGnt creation,' 



SUMMIT OF THE BIGHI. JJgd 

from the numeroiis Ayorlds that throng the firmament at midnight, 

• Where deptli, height, breadth, 
Are lost in their extremes, and where to count 
The thick-sown glories in this field of fire 
Perhaps a seraph's computation fails. ' " 

When Simond and his companions were on the summit of the Eighi, their guide, who 
was an old soldier, pointed out to them the spots where many a fearfid struggle had taken 
place. " You see this lake," said the guide; pointing to one immediately beneath; "in 
ancient times there was a wall across the defile, between the lake and the moimtain, and 
the same on the other side of the lake to the Mossberg ; our canton was thus safe under 
lock and key, it is now no longer so. There it was that the French endeavoured to 
penetrate on the 2nd of May, 1798 ; but our marksmen, stationed among the rocks and 
precipices on their flanks, took aim as at a herd of chamois ; every shot told, and most of 
their officers being killed or wounded, they were obliged to retire. -Another attack was 
made at the same time on Morgarten, near the lake which you see in front of us, partly 
hidden by the Mossberg. It was there also that we fought, a great while ago (1315), 
our first great battle against Austria, in which 1,300 of our people, commanded by 
Eodolph Reding, defeated 20,000 enemies. It was a E-eding also who commanded us in 
1798. During four successive days the enemy had been repulsed everywhere, even at 
the point of the bayonet ; they had buried 3,000 of their men, and we not 500 ; but a few 
more such victories, and we were annihilated, having only 4,000 men able to bear arms. 
Several positions were occupied by our women only, who made fascines, and dragged 
cannon, night and day, over the mountains. At last we found it necessary to listen to 
the terms held out, and to submit for the present to the new government imposed on us, 
rather than come to such extremities as those poor people on the other side " — turning 
round and pointing beyond the lake of Lucerne. ■ " You see," he continued, " Stantz, in 
that green valley at the foot of Mount Pilatus, the highest snowy mountain south-west 
of us ; the spire of the church is just now glittering in the sun ; there is a fine dark 
wood behind, and the valley, smooth as velvet, winds up between the mountains as far as 
Sarnen — that beautiful little lake as blue as the sides, so shady and green all roimd." 
Simond saw the speck, but could hardly believe it was a lake ; yet he was assured it was 
two hours long and nearly one hour wide. " Those high mountains on the left, whose 
snows look like white wreaths thrown over their dark blue sides from one summit to 
another, are the Surren Alps, which surroimd the Underwald with an almost inaccessible 
rampart. They form a striking contrast with the comparatively gentle and smooth 
irregularities which diversify the intermediate landscape. In a glen of the Melchthal, 
three leagues behind Stantz, the lowly cell is still shown where Nicholas de Elue, the 
pacificator and legislator of his country, lived a hermit in the fifteenth century. 

" Twenty years ago," continued the guide, " the innocent, harmless people of Unter- 
wald, rich and happy in their obscurity, were all at once invaded by a foreign army, for 
the avowed purpose of imposing on them that new government to which we had 
submitted four months before. The French first endeavoured to starve them into 
compliance by cutting ofi' their supplies, but this mode was too slow for their impatience. 
On the 3rd of September, 1798, General Schawenberg, their commander, directed a 
general attack to be made, by means of boats, from Lucerne, as weU as by the Oberland. 
Eepidsed with great spirit by the inhabitants, only two thousand strong, the attack was 
renewed every day from the 3rd to the 9th of September. On this last day, towards 
two in the afternoon, new reinforcements having penetrated by the land side with field- 
pieces, the invaders forced their way into the very heart of the coimtry. In their 
despair, the people rushed on them -nith very inferior arms ; whole families perishe'd 



364 



S\MXZi:RL.\XD. 



together ; no quarter was given on either side. Eighteen young women were found 
among the dead side by side, with their fathers and brothers near the chapel of 
Winkelrcid. Sixty-three persons, who had taken shelter in the church of Stantz, were 
slaughtered there with the priest at the altar. Every house in the open country, in all 
six hundred, was burnt down ; Stantz itself excepted, which was saved by the humanity 
of a chef tie brigade. The inhabitants who survived this daj^ wandering in the mountains 
without the means of subsistence, woidd have died during the ensuing winter, if they 
had not received timely assistance from the other cantons, from Germany and England, 
and from the French -army itself, after its first fury was abated. The enemy knew very 
well, that if the attack of the Otli of September had not succeeded, the people of Zug 
were ready, with the whole country, to rise again ; and they punished us for the 
intention, by the occupation of our town of Arth, where they remained to the end of the 
year. On the 10th of October, we were called iipon to deliver up the warlike trophies 
of former times preserved in many private families although worn by our ancestors, in 




the defence of liberty, against those very Austriaus with whom the French were at war ! 
Our expostulations and praj'ers were all in vain ; swords and banners, halberts and 
shields, were thrown into a fire, lighted for the purpose, on the public square of Arlh, and 
the iron that remained was sunk in the lake. The day after this wanton insult, another 
was added, by the erection of a pole and cap of liberty on the still warm ashes. An 
insurrection, which broke out in April following, served only to render our situation 
worse. 

"See there," said the guide, pointing east, "those two spiral heights, each a naked 
insulated rock, with white clouds gathering on one side, like a fantastic crest of feathers, 
they are Kleine Mythe and Grosse Mythe ; so called, because from a certain position 
they have, together, the form of a huge mitre over the head of Schwitz, which you see 
below, with the lake of Lowertz before it. More to the right observe, between a high 
mountain, with a torrent issuing out of it : that is the entrance of the Monottathal, or 
valley of Monotta, where Suwarrow, with an army of twenty-five thousand Russians, 
coming from Italy by the St. Gothard, appeared the 29th of September, 1799, on his 



SUMMIT OF THE RIGH[. .36o 

way to Masssna's position on the Albis, intending to surprise that general, who, lie knew, 
had been there a long while watching another Russian army, under Korsakau, in 
possession of Zurich. But Massena, well apprised of his approach, had already attacked 
and defeated the other Eussian army, and detached the divisions of Sovlt and Mortier to 
meet Suwarrow on his way. They met at the entrance of the Monottathal, and a 
desperate engagement ensued. Many French and Russian soldiers fell together into the 
Monotta from the bridge, which a projecting point hides from our sight. This bridge 
was taken and retaken many times ; the mingled blood of the two nations crimsoned the 
stream, wliich carried down their floating bodies. All the efforts of the Russians, during 
two successive days, to force the passage, proved unavailing ; nor could their success have 
answered any purpose, after the defeat at Zurich. A retreat became unavoidable, and 
Suwarrow effected it by Glaris, instead of by Altdorf, whence he had come. 'No traveller, 
probably, had ever before passed the Kientzigkoulm from Altdorf to the Monottathal : 
the very shepherds take off their shoe3, and hold by their hands, where armies marched 




CHAPn NEA.K SCU\MT^ 

and fought during that memorable campaign. The precipices were strewn with bodies 
of fallen soldiers ; not a mossy rock beside a running spring that had not been chosen 
by some of them to lay down his head upon and die ; and when, in the ensuing spring, 
the melting of the snows left the corpses imcovered, the ravenous birds of prey became so 
dainty, that ihey fed their young ones only with the eyes !" 

The winter of 1435 was so excessively cold, that the whole course of the Rhine froze 
to the sea, and the lakes of Zurich and Constance were crossed both on horseback and in 
carriages. "When the lake of Zug began to thaw in the early part of the spring, the 
inhabitants were alarmed by discovering profound rents under that part of the town which 
is nearest to the water, and in consequence many of the towns-people fled. In the early 
part of March, two streets with part of the walls of the town suddenly fell into the lake, 
carrj'ing with them sixty persons, and among others the first magistrate of the canton ; 
his infant son, who was found in his cradle, lived to a very advanced age and succeeded 
to the dignity of his father. About a hundred and fifty years after this, a few 



dob SWITZERLAND. 

again simk, altliougli tlie lake is only from twenty to thii'ty fathoms deep near Zug, wliile 
it is two iLtindred fathoms ia some places, it being the deepest lake in Switzerland after 
Constance. 

Zug, one of the smaller cantons of the Swiss confederation, is situated nearly in the 
centre of Switzerland, and is boimded on the north by the canton of Zurich, on the east 
and south by Schwitz, and on the west by Lucerne and Aargau. It lies in the basin of the 
riyer Eeuss, an affluent of the Rhine, and its waters flow in a northern direction. The 
northern part of the lake of Zug occupies the centre of the canton ; the southern part is 
in the territory of Schwitz. The lake is a fine piece of water, about eight miles long and 
between one or two miles wide, sm'rounded by a delightful country. 

The little town of Zug boasts its remote antiquity, beiag one of the twelve destroyed 
by the Helvetii, when they attempted to emigrate into the Roman provinces in Csesar's 
time, having been rebuilt on their return. Strabo mentions it, and Bochat the anti- 
quarian says that its name means, in the Celtic language, " near deep waters." 

Schwitz is one of the cantons of the Swiss confederation which has given its name to 
all Switzerland. It lies on the west side of the high Alps of Glarus, of which the 
Glarnisch, 9,000 feet high, is the loftiest simimit. It consists of several long valleys 
between lower oiFsets of the Alps, the summits of which are from 4,000 to 6,000 feet high, 
and of a plateau or table-land in the centre of the canton. The waters of the northern 
part of the canton of Schwitz run in a north direction iato the lake of Zurich ; those of 
the central part flow north-west by the river Sihl into the Leinmat ; and those of the 
southern part run southwards into the lake of Lucerne. Besides bordering on those 
lakes, the canton embraces within its territory the southern part of the lake of Zug, and 
it also entirely encloses the small lake of Lowerz, which is about two miles long and one 
nule wide. The smaU island of Schwanau, on which are the ruins of a feudal castle, rises 
in the middle of the lake. JfTorth-Avest of the lake of Lowerz, and between it and the 
lake of Zug, is the valley of Goldau, between Mount Eighi and the Rossberg. 

The capital of the canton is situated at the junction of the valley of Muota with two 
other valleys, one of which runs southwards to Brunnen on the shore of the lake of 
Lucerne, and the other westward towards the little lake of Lowerz. The conically- 
shaped mountain called Mythe, nearly 6,000 feet high, rises immediately north-east of 
the town, and seems to threaten to overwhelm it by its fall. The country around 
Schwitz is beautiful and very fertile, and the scenery is splendid. It is an open town, 
having good streets, a large square, a very handsome church, and various public 
buildings. 

The to^vn of Einsiedeln, situated about ten miles north of Schwitz, is a thriving place. 
Its prosperity is owing to its celebrated sanctuary in the clim'ch of the abbey, which 
attracts, it is said, anmially, 150,000 pilgrims. It was founded in the ■ tenth century, 
and is very rich. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE VAKIED H'TSTORY OF THE SWISS — THE REFORMATION. 

In t]ie fifteenth centuiy, tlie famous Council of Constance began. No less than three 
popes, John XXIII., Gregory, and Benedict, contended for the see of Eonie. The 
emperor Sigismimd, determining to put an end to the scandal and distraction which ia 
consequence arose, convoked this council. But his disposition was false and rapacious. 
To John Huss, the celebrated preacher of Bohemia, when accused of heresy, he gave- a 
safe conduct ; yet, when he appeared before the coimcil, Sigismund allowed him, as well 
as his disciple Jerome of Prague, to be surrendered to the civil power and bm-nt alive. 

The duke Prederick of Austria favoured John XXIIL, a prelate of a profligate 
character, protecting and abetting him, even after he was deposed by the coimcil, as well 
as the two other pretenders to the papacy, and elected in their place Martin V. Por this 
Frederick was excommunicated by the coimcil, whilst Sigismund, jealous of the power of 
Austria, and covetous of its vast dominions, pat him under the ban of the empire and 
invited all the imperial vassals and towns to make war against him. The same invitation 
was addressed to the Swiss cantons. The Swiss refused at first, with the exception of 
Berne, ever ready to seize a favourable opportunity for its own aggrandisement. The 
old forest cantons hesitated ; they had lately renewed their truce with the duke of Austria 
for fifty years longer, and although the bishops, in council assembled, absoh^ed them from 
their engagements, and the emperor promised them the permanent possession of all the 
conquests they should make on Prederick, they for some time withstood the temptation, 
saying, " that a breach of faith coidd never be justified either by the church or the 
empire." 

But Zurich, more covetous and less scrupulous than the rest, having followed the 
example of Berne, the other cantons, threatened on the one hand and tempted on the 
other, also declared war against Austria, in April, 1415. The canton of TJri, and the 
brave shepherds of Appenzell, formed the only honourable exceptions ; they remained 
faithful to their truce with Prederick, and took no part either in the war or the spoil. 

Berne, joined by Soleure and Bienne, entered the Aargau. This fine province was the 
cradle of the house of Hapsburg ; it extends from the Aar to the Limmat, and north- 
ward to the Rhine, and was divided between towns enjoying franchises under the 
protection of the dukes of Austria, and several lords, vassals of the duke. Hearing of 
Prederick's interdict, and of the movements of the cantons, they assembled a diet at 
Sursee. The towns were for remaiaing neutral in the approaching struggle, and 
forming a close alliance among all the districts of Aargau for the defence of their 
liberties, with leave to treat with the Swiss confederates in case of necessity, and to join 
them in a distinct canton, as Glaris and Zug had done. 

But the nobles did not accede to the compact; they preferred having the duke as 
their master to placing themselves on a level with the burghers. This was the cause of 



tiba SWITZERLAND. 

tlie misfortunes of Aargau, and cf its state of subjection, which lasted till the close of the 
eighteenth centurj'. The towns then resolved to place themselves under the protection 
of the confederates, in order to secure their freedom, but it was too late. As the 
assembly broke up, and the deputies were returning to their houses, they espied on the 
hills the banners and the troops of the cantons, who had hostilely entered the country. 
The town of Zoffingen was the first attacked, and was obliged to renounce its allegiance 
to Austria, and swear fidelity to Berne. The same happened to Aarburg, Aarau, 
Brugg, Lentzburg, and others. 

In a few weeks the Bernese had conquered the greater part of Aargau, the rapidity 
of their movements preventing any effectual resistance. Lucerne, on its side, took 
Sursee, Meyenberg, and other places, as far as the Bernese line of conquests. The 
Zurichers, having crossed Mount Albis, occupied the bailiwick of .Knonau, Dietikon, and 
the banks of the Limmat, towards Baden. The forces of the confederates united between 
the Limmat and the Reuss, and conquered in common, in the name of the seven cantons, 
that of Uri being excepted, Mellingen, Bremgarten, and the countrj^ of Baden. The 
strong castle of Baden held out some tims longer for Austria, but the artillery of the 
Bernese having battered down part of the v/alls, the garrison surrendered, and the castle 
was burned. The confederates then divided their spoils. Berne, Zurich, and Lucerne 
kept each its conquests with the same rights that the house of Austria had exercised over 
those districts ; and the country conquered in common was formed into bailiwicks under 
the authority of the united cantons, Avho sent, by turns, bailiffs every second j'ear to 
govern them. Berne, which had already obtained the lion's share, did not participate 
in the common bailiwicks. Thus the Swiss republicans began to have extensive districts 
as subjects, over which they ruled as sovereigns. The practice was afterwards widely 
extended, and it became an abundant source of discontent and civil war, and was, at 
last, the main cause "of overthrowing the old Swiss confederation. 

While the house of Austria was thus stripped of its ancestral possessions in Helvetia, 
■ Duke Frederick made his submission to the Emperor Sigismund, and, having given up 
Pope John, became reconciled to the church. This re-establishment of peace was 
signified to the Swiss cantons, with the injunction that they should restore their 
conquests to the dulce. Uri again lifted up its voice for the cause of honesty, but its 
scruples were laughed at by the other cantons, who were determined to hold fast their 
prize, and they propitiated the cupidity of Sigismund by a sum of 10,000 golden florins. 
By a treaty concluded in 1418, between the emperor and the duke of Austria, the duke 
renounced all his rights over the Aargau, and the counties of Lenzburg and Baden, and 
the other bailiwicks. Such was the end of the war, called the war of Constance ; the 
first in Avhich the Swiss acted on the oflensive without having received provocation. 

About this period the Swiss cantons first carried their arms across the Alps into the 
valleys of Italy. The cantons of TJri and Unterwalden had groimds of complaint against 
the officers of the duke of Milan, who had annoyed some of their countrymen and seized 
their cattle. The duke refused to give them satisfaction. They crossed the St. Gothard, 
took possession of the Yal Levantina or Livinen, and then, with the full consent of the 
inhabitants, they occupied the valley of Ossola. 

The duke Visconti engaged the duke of Savoy to reconquer the latter. The troops of 
Savoy crossed the Yalais, and penetrating by the Simplon to Domo d'Ossola, drove the 
Swiss garrison away. The cantons of Uri and Unterwalden next purchased of the baron 
of Sax Misox, a Rhsetian noble, the town and valley of Bellinzona, and an obstinate 
combat, lasting a whole day, ensued. The landamman of Uri, the standard-bearer of 
the same canton, and the amman of Zug, Peter Kolin, were among the lulled. The 
son of Kolin seized the banner, dyed with his father's blood, again waved it at the head 
of the men of Uri, and although he too perished, the banner was saved. Swiss bravery? 



THE LORD OF RARON. 369 

however, could not triumpli over the steady discipline of the yeteran troops of Italy. 
Weakened by the loss they had sustained, the Swiss mournfully recrossed the St. 
Grothard, leaving a garrison, however, in the Yal Levantina. The battle of Arbedo was 
fought in June, 1442, and Bellinzona was soon after surrendered, by treaty, to the 
duke of MUan. 

These Italian broils gave rise to a popular insurrection in the Valais. The lord of 
Raron, captaia- general of that country, had allied himself to the duke of Savoj^, whom he 
had assisted in his expedition against the Swiss at Domo d'Ossola. The cantons, 
resentiug this, excited the people of the Yalais against the lord of Raron, who escaped 
to Savoy ; and the people destroyed his castle near Siders, as well as that of the bishop. 

Having obtained no assistance from the duke of Savoj^, the lord of Raron repaired 
to Berne. Berne espoused his cause, the forest cantons took part with the Valaisans. 
A diet, assembled at Zurich, decided that the property of the baron should be returned 
to him first, and that, on the other hand, he should do justice to the people. But the 
people were not satisfied with this decision, and hostilities commenced between them and 
Berne. The Bernese, joined by Freybm-g and Soleure, sent an army of 13,000 men over 
the Sanetch Alps into the Valais. The forest cantons offered their mediation in vain ; 
and the Valaisans, having refused to accede to any terms with Raron and Berne, were 
left to their own resources. They fought desperately, and repulsed the Bernese. At 
length, fresh proposals of peace were made, and the Valaisans agreed to restore Raron's 
domains, to pay 10,000 llorins as a compensation for the damage they had done him, an 
equal sum to Berne for the costs of the war, and 4,000 florins to the chapter of Sion. 
But the lord of Raron, dying at a distance from his country, and his family losing all 
their influence, the Valaisans continued, thenceforward, to govern themselves according 
to their own municipal constitution. The Upper, or German Valais, was divided into six 
dixains, or hundreds, and the town of Sion formed a seventh. Each sent deputies to the 
general assembly of the country, at Avhich the bishop of Sion presided. The Lower 
Valais was afterwards wrested, by the Upper Valaisans, from the duke of Savoy, and 
was governed by them as a subject district. The Valais entered also into alliances with 
varioiis Swiss cantons, and particularly with Berne. 

Another country, more extensive and populous than the Valais, effected its emanci- 
pation about the same time. This was the highlands of Rhtetia, with their sixty valleys, 
where the Rhine and the Inn have their sources — a wild secluded region, smToimded 
and intersected on all sides by the highest Alps. The house of Hapsbm-g, or of Austria, 
had no pretensions to that countr}^ Its numerous nobles had become independent, 
holding directly of the empire ; indeed the bishop of Coire, who had great possessions 
in the country, was a prince of the empire. Though a century had now elapsed since 
the Swiss cantons had achieved their independence, their neighbours of the Rhsetian 
valleys still suffered imder the oppression of their petty lords, far more overbearing and 
capricious than the Austrian riders had been in Helvetia. Occupying castles built on 
lofty cliffs, they sallied thence, like vultirres or eagles, scaring the poor shepiherds and 
cultivators below, extorting from them the produce of the soil, insulting the chastity of 
their daughters, and disposing of the liberties and lives of their sons. The greatest 
atrocities were perpetrated, from the details of which the mind instinctively revolts. 
No wonder that the people became rife for emancipation ; they rose to a man : the valley 
of Schams and the Rheinwald became free ; and they joined the gray or Gi'ison league, 
which was able to protect them from any fm-ther violence. 

The Engadine, one of the finest and largest valleys of all Helvetia, is watered 
throughout its length, about sixty miles, by the river Inn, and is separated on one side 
from Italy, and the other from the rest of the Grisons, by two lofty ridges of the Rhaetian 
Alps. After the emancipation of the neighbouring valleys, the people of Engadine 

2b 



370 SWITZERLAND. 

aspired to the same liberty as their brethren of the Grison league. A brutal insult, 
offered to Theresa of Camogask, decided the explosion. Her father, with assumed 
composure, told the emissary of the tyrant that he would himself bring his daughter to 
the castle next morning in a more becoming dress than she wore at present. Meanwhile, 
he collected his friends, and exhorted them to follow the example of their neighbours. 
Next morning he led forth his daughter in her best dress, and foUoAved by several young 
men, proceeded to the castle, near which another party was posted in ambuscade. The 
chatelaiu came out of the castle, and seizing the maid, rudely kissed her, when the 
father's dagger pierced the heart of the ruihan, and he fell lifeless to the ground. The 
men of Eugadine rushed into the castle, overpowered the guard, and destroyed the walls. 
The independence of Engadine was now proclaimed, and in that fine valley liberty 
prevailed. 

In 1450, a union, called " the Black League," formed of many nobles, who disliked 
the enfranchisement of the communes, endeavoured to reduce them to subjection, but it 
was defeated, and many of the leaders lost their lives in conflict, in the vaUey of 
Schams. The three leagues now proposed a solemn alliance among themselves, embracing 
all the Hhaetian valleys, with a view to their mutual support. Each commune sent, 
therefore, depiities to the village of Vazerol, which stands nearly in the centre of the 
coimtry, and there a imion for perpetual defence was sworn to between them, and 
general diets were appointed to be held by turns in each of the three leagues, to 
deliberate on the interests of the whole. 

It was arranged that if differences should arise between any two of the . leagues, the 
third was to be the umpire, and the decision of the two was to be obligatory on the 
third. But, in their internal affairs, each league, and even each commune, was to 
govern itself according to its own laws and customs, to hold its own meetings, and to 
elect its own magistrates. Several communes together formed a jurisdiction, having its 
courts of civil and criminal justice, and a landamman was elected for a time by a majority 
of voices ; several jurisdictions formed a league, having its own annual diet ; and the 
three leagues together became the confederacy of the Grisons. Their government, like 
that of the Valais, contained a mixture of pure democratic and representative forms, 
adapted to an extensive, yet moimtainous, coimtry, where each valley is a little world, 
secluded from the rest, during a great part of the year, by show and ice. It was not till 
afterwards, during the war of Suabia, that the Grisons contracted a perpetual alliance 
mth the Swiss cantons, Avhich tney subsequently maintained, forming an important 
accession to Switzerland, and protecting its eastern frontiers on the side of the Tyrol 
and of the other dominions of the house of Austria. 

On the death of the last count of Tockenburg, in 1436, fatal dissension arose among 
the Swiss, Zurich claiming the inheritance, because the count had been a freeman of that 
city. Great strife ensued, and serious violence occurred. At length, the other cantons 
combining, Zurich was threatened Avith an immediate attack, when, perceiving the danger, 
it submitted to what is called the Jus Hcheticum, or public law of the confederation. Arbiters 
were appointed from the five mediating cantons, and it was decided that Zurich should 
restore all it had taken out of the Tockenburg estates, while Schwitz and Glarus should 
retain possession of Tocken and of the Upper March, of which they had gained possession 
by conquest, but of which the count had given them the reversion by a former treaty. 

Stussi, burgomaster of Zurich, a bold ambitious man, thinking solely on revenge, 
sought the alliance of the hereditary enemy of their common country, Frederick III. of 
Austria. Frederick soon after repaired to Zurich, when the citizens swore fidelity to the 
empire, and tearing from their sleeves the white cross — the badge of the Swiss in all 
their Avars — assumed the red cross of Austria. The confederates Avere indignant at such 
conduct, and war arose. They defeated the Zurichers and Austrians in several battles. 



WAR WITH ZURICH. 371 

and took or destroyed many towns and villages. At last they advanced against Zurich, 
and a desperate struggle took place in the fields near the Sihl, close to the ramparts of 
the city. At last, the Zurichers gave way, and in disorder recrossed the bridge to 
re-enter the town. Stussi stood alone on the bridge, with his battle-axe in hand, trying 
to stop the fight, when a citizen of Zurich, exclaiming that "he was the main cause of all 
this mischief," ran him through with his spear. Stussi fell in his heavy armour, and 
friends and foes passed over his body on their way to the gate. Some of the confederates 
had entered the town, when a Zuricher had the presence of mind to lower the portcullis, 
and thus saved the city from the horrors of a storm. Dreadful atrocities followed ; the 
confederates set fire to the suburb, committed the greatest devastations in the country 
around, brutally cut open the corpse of Stussi, pulled out his heart, and then threw the 
mangled remains into the river. 

The war against Zurich and its allies contiaued during the whole of the following 
year ; it cost that city more than 1,000,000 florins. But the differences between the 
cantons and Austria were not yet settled ; and after various struggles the town of 
Freyburg remained faithful to tlxat power, although now become quite insulated In the 
midst of hostile states. At length, the exactions of Austria alienated the hearts of the 
people of Freyburg. About the same time the dulce of Savoy claimed payment of 
200,000 florins due to him by that city. The duke of Austria, despairing of retaining 
possession of Freyburg, ordered its governor, Halwyl, to quit the town, which he did, 
after taking possession, by a stratagem, of the best part of the burghers' plate. The 
citizens, preferring the domination of Savoy to that of Berne, which had long had views 
on their country, submitted to the former power in 1542, and swore fidelity to the duke 
of Savoy, who guaranteed to them their ancient privileges. 

Not to dwell on minuter details, ia two h\mdred years after the first declaration of 
independence by the Waldstatten, the confederation of the thirteen Swiss cantons, their 
allies and subjects, had become possessed of the whole country of Helvetia and RhaDtIa, . 
having for boundaries, the Jura to the west, and Lake Leman, with the Pennine Alps, 
to the south ; the further chain of the Rhsetlan Alps and the Rhine dividing It from 
Tyrol on the east; and the Lake of Constance and the course of the Rhine from 
Schaffhausen to Bale, marking its boundaries towards the north. These limits, which 
appear marked by the hand of nature, Switzerland has ever since maintained, with the 
addition of some valleys on the Italian side of the Alps, which were the subject of early 
contention with the dukes of Milan. 

The marked and striking geographical characteristics of Switzerland have not only 
materially affected its political history and institutions, but have had a powerful influence 
on the progress of religion among the people. The mountain summits, which bade 
defiance to the intrusions of foreign armies, and alien systems and usages, preserved them 
to a considerable extent from the encroachments of those religious views and forms which 
prevailed ia surrounding countries. And when the Reformation came, these local charac- 
teristics greatly affected its progress, and gave marked peculiarities to Its results. In 
Germany the Reformation was wide- spreading and uniform as the country Itself ; while 
in Switzerland It was broken up Into fragmentary and isolated portions, which ultimately 
coalesced far less on account of any comprehensiveness of scheme, than of their intrinsic 
resemblance of character. In Germany, Luther appeared as the leader of the Saxon 
hosts against the papacy, and everywhere he attracted the eye by the prominence of his 
position ; while in Switzerland the struggle began In different cantons at the same time, 
and Instead of the name of one man almost absorbing attention, we find a confederated 
host of reformers, including Wittembach, Zwingle, Caplto, Haller, fficolampadlus, Oswald 
Myconlus, Tjco Juda, Farel, and Calvin, labouring at Glarus, Bale, Zurich, Berne, IS'euf- 
chatel, Geneva, Lucerne, Schaffhausen, Appenzel, St. Gall, and the Grisous. Just as 

2 B 2 



372 SWITZERLAND. 

distinct portions of the eartli receive the light of the sun, not by communication and 
transmission from other parts, but from the one primal centre and source ; so a day- 
. spring froni on high came down at once upon the darkness of the plains of Saxony and 
on the mountains and vallej^s of Switzerland, awaking the same spirit, and prodvicing 
the same results at the hearths and altars of the most dissimilar races. The bond of 
union which held together the leaders of these mighty movements was not a merely 
personal sympathy, it was the power of the same truth and the same spirit. " I began to 
preach the gospel," ssija Zwingle, " in the year of grace, 1516, that is to say, at a time 
when Luther's name had never been heard in this country. It is not from Luther that 
I learned the doctrine of Christ, but from the word of God. If Luther preaches Christ, 
he does what I am doing ; and that is all." 

But we must hasten on to advert to the circumstances which led to the introduction of 
the Reformation to the Alpine valleys. Towards the middle of the eleventh century, 
two hermits left St. GaU, and took up their abode in the vaUey of the Tockenburg. This 
vale extends for a distance of aboiit ten leagues in length, being separated from the canton 
of Appenzel on the north by the moimtains of the Sentis, Sommerigkopf, and the Old 
Man, while it slopes away to the east so far as to display the magnificent prospect of the 
Tyrolese Alps. Here the hermits built their cells, and around this spot gradually 
gathered a thinly scattered population. On its most elevated portion, and more than 
two thousand feet above Lake Zurich, arose a village rovmd a church, two of the hamlets 
of which were known by the titles of Lisighaus, or Ehzabeth's house, and Schonenboden. 
ISFear Lisighaus there is still a peasant's cottage, of which the thin walls, the small round 
panes of glass, and the shingle roof loaded with stones to prevent its being carried away 
by the wind, plainly indicate that it was b'oilt in very remote times. 

This house, about the close of the fifteenth century, was inhabited by a man named 
Zwingle, who was bailiff of the parish, and who, with his family, was held in high repute 
by the entire district. His third son, named Ulrich, was born in the lonely chalet, a few 
weeks after the birth of Luther, on the 1st of January, 1484. His early manifestations 
of superior genius determined his father to consecrate him to the church. With this 
intention, he sent him first to Bale, and then to Berne, where a school of polite literature 
had recently been founded — the first that had arisen in Switzerland. Here Zwingle 
found the aliment in which he delighted ; he became a scholar and a poet. 

Here, however, he was placed in imminent danger. There was a great strife between 
the Dominicans and the Franciscans, and the former were earnestly and only intent on 
humbling their rivals. Hearing of Zwingle's precocious intellect, and remarking his fine 
voice, they urged him to reside in their convent till he might enter on his novitiate, and 
strove in various ways to attach him to themselves. But the peril of the son reached the 
ears of his father, and Zwingle was required immediately to quit Berne. 

In November, 1505, he was at Bale, and thither came Wittembach, who had taught 
at Tubingen, in conjunction with the celebrated Ueuchlin, who had rendered great service 
to the Reformation in Germany. He was not merely a man of learning, but of piety. 
Among other truths, he announced that " the death of Christ is the only ransom for our 
souls." Much of what he taught was received by Zwingle. He was chosen, from his 
reputation as master of arts, to be the priest of Glanis, and applied himself zealously to 
the duties of his large parish. 

Schinner, from a poor lad, had risen to the rank of a bishop, and had succeeded, in 
1510, in attaching the whole Swiss confederation to the designing and ambitious pontiff, 
pope Julius. Zwingle soon learned that the pope had granted him an annual pension of 
fifty florins, to encourage him in the culture of letters. At this time, Zvi^ingle connected 
himself with Schinner, now a cardinal, and became one of the Romish party. In April, 
1512, a large nimiber of the Swiss, urged by the cardinal's eloquence, arose, as they 



ZWINGLE. 373 

thought, for the deliverance of the church, and as there was a general levy at Glarus, the 
■whole cominime rallied around the banner of its confederates, and among them was 
their pastor, Zwingle, in the capacity of chaplain. Well had' it been had they remem- 
bered that the weapons of their warfare ought not to be carnal. 

Returning from this campaign, Zwingle appHed himself diligently to the study of 
Greek, in order, as he said, " to be able to draw the doctrine of Jesus Christ from the very 
fountains of truth." To render himself more familiar with Paul's epistles, he copied the 
Greek text with his own hand, adding, in the margin, a multitude of notes from his own 
reflections, and also from the fathers of the church. He recognised, too, the infallible 
authority of the sacred oracles. He said, " It is not permitted men to bend the gospel 
to their own meaning, and to force upon it their own interpretation. I set myself 
urgently to beseech the Lord that he would grant me his light ; and though I read 
nothing but the scripture, it became much clearer to me than if I had read many a 
commentary." It was his practice to compare one scripture with another, and to 
obtain light on diiScult passages from others which were more clear. He thus became 
acquainted mth the whole Bible, and particularly so with the New Testament. " "When 
Zwingle thus turned to holy writ," says D'Aubigne, " (Switzerland made the first step 
towards the Reformation." 

He was subsequently led to consider the superstitions and abuses of the Romish church. 
Nor was he satisfied with exposing these apart from the proclamation of the gospel. In 
direct opposition to the ceremonial of the mass, he exclaimed, " Christ, who offered up 
himself for lis once on the cross, is the host and the victim, that makes satisfaction to all 
eternity for the sins of the faithful." If some hesitated at these declarations, others 
recoiled from them with horror, while some received "the engrafted word, which is able 
to save the soul." The friends of Zwingle, indeed, became greatly multiplied, and the 
truth of God was extensively diffused. After a residence of ten years at Glarus, he Avas 
sent for to Zurich, and installed as preacher in the cathedi'al, in December, 1518, deeply 
regretted by the parishioners whom he quitted. 

In 1522, Zwingle published a tract, " On the observation of Lent." This was his first 
work, and greatly did it irritate the Romanist party. He therefore caiised an assembly 
to be convened by the senate of Zm-ich, for the purpose of adjustiag existing differences. 
It took place on the 29th of January, 1523. He stated the dootruies he held in thirty- 
seven projDositions, fully persuaded that they were agreeable to the gospel of Christ. : , At 
the close of the consultation, the assembly passed an edict greatly in favour of Zwingle. 
After its publication, his doctrine became general throughout the whole canton of Zurich 
under the name of evangelical truth. 

Determined to introduce it into Switzerland generally, he induced the senate to call a 
new assembly. It was convened on the 26th of October, 1523, and various discussions 
took place. One resolution of the conference was, that no images were to be allowed 
among Christians. In the nest conference, the parties assembled discussed the mass. 
Zwingle maintained it was no sacrifice, and a decision to that effect was accordingly 
These conclusions were not, however, received throughout Switzerland ; the 
of Berne, Glariis, Bale, Schaffhausen, and Appenzel, refused to admit them. 
Meanwhile, Zwingle wrote several books in defence of his doctrines, and they were 
maliing progress in various directions. 

An important accession had, in the mean time, been gained to the cause of the Reforma- 
tion in (Ecolampadius, a native of Winsperg, in Franconia. In 1516, he had received a 
call to the pastoral office, and was subsequently honoured with the title of Doctor of 
Divinity, by the University of Heidelburg. About the same time, Erasmus arrived in 
Bale, to publish his Annotations on the New Testament, in which CEcolampadius 
assisted. On the completion of that work, he entered the monastery of St. Bridget, 



374 SWITZERLAND. 

situated without tlie city of Augsburg, and seemed, for a time, -well contented with a 
monastic life. 

But the urgency of friends, and especially of one, named Capito, was the means, 
under Providence, of calling him forth, and inducing him to I'esume his public labours. 
In 1522, he proceeded to Bale, where he was made curate and preacher of the church of 
St. Martin, and where he speedily introduced the doctrine of Luther. Advanced by the 
senate to the pastoral office, he boldly exposed the errors of the Eomish church, and 
zealously inculcated evangelical truth. He, however, attempted no alteration in the 
public worship of Grod until 1523, when he found the magistrates and citizens of Zurich 
disposed to cast off the doctrine of Rome, and to receive that of the Reformation. 

The reformers were now not free from disputes. Luther maintained that after 
the bread and wine are consecrated, the body and blood of Christ are substantially 
present therein, — a tenet which is called consubstantiation. Zwingle was opposed to this 
view, and so was (Ecolampadius, but on somewhat different- grounds. Zwingle placed 
the stress of the words, " This is my body," on the verb is, which he held was to be 
taken for signifies. QEcolampadius placed it on the noun " bodi/," and affirmed that the 
bread is called the body by a figure, which allows the name of the thing signified to be 
given to the sign. Alike they agreed in the simply symbolical character of the elements, 
and sustained it in the work they wrote to confute that of Luther on the Eucharist. 

In 1527, several municipalities of the canton of Berne addressed the senate for 
the abolition of the mass, and the iatroduction of the worship established at Zurich. 
Preparations were made to give the proposed assembly the greatest possible solemnity. 
The presence of Zwingle was invited ; and he gladly availed himself of the opportunity 
thus offered for maintaining Di^dne truth. He therefore repaired to Berne, accom- 
panied by several Swiss and German theologians, who had assembled at Zurich. As soon 
as they arrived the convocation commenced its sittings, at which the great council 
assisted. Ten theses, containing the principal points maintained by Zwingle, were duly 
discussed. So successfully were they defended by the reformers, that they gained over a 
great number of the clergy. The town adopted the reformed worship, and in the space 
of four months all the municipalities of the canton followed the example. 

The history of the Swiss Reformation has been divided into three periods, during the 
first of which Zurich was the centre of the movements which took place, which were 
then chiefly German. Subsequent^, between the years 1526 and 1532, Berne became 
the principal point of operations, the Reformation being then both German and French, 
and extending from the gorges of the Jura to the deepest valleys of the Alps. Afterwards 
Geneva became the focus of an influence from which the Reformation spread and 
prevailed in all directions. To the second of these periods we may now turn. 

At the opening of one of the lateral valleys that lead into the Northern Alps, stands 
the town of Aigle, one of the most southern in Switzerland. For some half a century it 
had belonged to Berne, with the four parishes which are under its jurisdiction, namely, 
Aigle, Bex, OUon, and the chalets scattered in the lofty valleys of the Ormonds. This 
was the spot where the second ej)och of the Swiss Reformation began. 

Among the rude and turbulent people of this district there came, in the winter of 
1626 — 1527, a foreign schoolmaster, where, at every available moment, he devoted himself 
to the study of the Scriptm'cs and of the most learned theological treatises. At that time 
the struggle between Luther and Zwingle was just commencing, and Farel — for such 
was the real name of the schoolmaster, who was only waiting till the right time should 
arrive for declaring himself a reformer — looked to the respective merits of the several 
claimants before he made his choice between these two great leaders of the Reformation. 
Luther had been known in France for a much longer time than Zwingle, yet Farel 
decided in favour of the latter. " Mysticism had characterised the Germanic nations 



i'AREL CECOLAMrADIUS. 375 

during the Middle Ages, and scliolasticism those of Roman descent. The French were 
in closer relation with the dialectician Zwingle than with the mystic Luther ; or rather 
they were the mediators between the two great tendencies of the Middle Ages ; and 
while giving to the Christian thought that correct form which seems to be the province 
of southern nations, they became the instruments of God to spread through the Church 
the fulness of life and of the Spirit of Christ." 

In his little chamber at Aigle, Farel read the first publication addressed to the 
German by the Swiss reformer. " With what learning," he exclaimed, " does Zwingle 
scatter the darkness ! with what holy ingenuity he gains over the wise, and what 
captivating meekness he unites with deep erudition ! 0, that by the grace of God this 
work may win over Luther, so that the Church of Christ, trembling from such violent 
shocks, may at length find peace ! " 

Farel, on leaving his native land, repaired to Bale. Here he met with his friend 
Anemond, and several other fugitives from France and Lorraine, among whom were the 
chevalier D'Esche and Peter Toussaint, a native of Metz. He was received in the most 
cordial manner by (Ecolampadius, and became his guest. 

The occurrences at Meaux had excited imiversal attention. The fame of Farel, as a 
corrector of abuses, had preceded him. The evangelical doctrine had gained many 
friends in the senate, and among the inhabitants of Bale. On the other hand, the 
members of the university, encouraged by Eome, were intent on its suppression ; but 
• their attempts were abortive, and tended to promote the cause of truth. 

CEcolampadius, therefore, posted up four important propositions, and invited all who 
had taken offence at his doctrine either to refute it, or to yield to the force of his 
arguments. After the public defence of his propositions, the general respect for his 
character increased, and the people felt a growing interest in such discussions, relating, 
as they did, to subjects of the greatest practical importance. 

Farel applied in vain to the rector and prior of the university for permission to 
exhibit and defend certain theses. The senate, on the contrary, granted leave to hold 
the disputation, and declared, " that the theses were framed in becoming language, that 
the sentiments were scriptural, and conducive to general edification." The vicar- 
general, in conjunction with the heads of the universitj', however, issued an order to all 
the priests, students, and others, prohibiting them from attending the disputation, under 
pain of excommunication and banishment. A counter edict was now issued by the 
senate, requiring all such persons to attend the disputation, under penalty of being 
deprived of their benefices, and the protection of the laws. 

The adversaries of truth, who had been so violently opposed to the meeting, did not 
make their appearance, but contented themselves with merely boasting, in private, how 
much they could have done had they been there. Their conduct lowered them in the 
estimation of the people, Avhile that of the reformers was proportionately favourable. 

Farel rose greatly in the esteem of his friends on this occasion. His piety, learning, 
and scriptural knowledge, combined with such com'age and zeal, rendered him, in the 
judgment of Qi)colampadius and others, more than a match for all the doctors of the 
Sorbonne. Though young, and a new convert, the effect of his exertions was, in many 
ways, beneficial. 

His natural modesty restrained him, for a time, from becoming an author, but it was 
, afterwards overcome throiigh the encouragement of fficolampadius. He drew up, with 
"reat brevity and plainness, " A Summary of what a Christian ought to know, in order 
^ trust God and serve his neighbour." It was well received, and went through several 
^^^& editions. He afterwards, sent various small treatises to the press, some of which 
■wereopQjj^ j^^g q-^^ pgjj^ ^]^g ^gg^ written by others. 
^^ Vese undertakings he was zealously assisted by his friend Anemond, who had 



a76 SWITZEELiND. 

frequently olianged Ills residence for the sake of his own religious improvement, and to 
promote the cause of the gospel. He fell ill at Schaff hausen, and sent for Farel, but died 
before his friend arrived. Myconius wrote to console his surviving friend as follows : 
" Anemond is gone to Him to whose cause he devoted himself. I doubt not but that he 
■will receive the reward of his faith, and of the sacrifice he has made for the advancement 
of the truth. Let us so live, that Avhen our earthly tabernacle shall be dissolved, we may 
arrive where we trust Anemond has entered before us." 

It was to be expected that the priests would denounce the movements of the reformers. 
They even made the superstitious people believe that Farel and his companion Viret 
fed devils, imder the form of black cats, at their table ; that devils hung at every hair 
of Farcl's beard ; that he had no whites to his eyes ; and other things equally monstrous. 

They sent for Guy Fuerbity, a Dominican, and doctor of the Sorbonne, ho]ping to aid their 
cause by preaching, and conducted him to the cathedral with great pomp, and with an 
armed escort. He chose for his subject, the soldiers dividing our Lord's garments among 
them, which he applied to ancient and modern heretics, who divided the church, among 
whom were the Waldenses, Lutherans, and Germans. His audience was a large one, 
chiefly of females. He attacked with great vehemence the readers of the Scriptures, the 
violators of fast-days, the despisers of the pope, and their protectors, and called them by 
the most opprobrious names. He exalted himself and his brother priests above the 
Virgia Mary, pretending that they could draw Christ down from heaven, and transmute 
a wafer into a god ! 

Two reformed preachers happened to be in the church, and heard these impious pre- 
tences. At the close of the sermon, they offered to prove their fallacy from the Holy 
Scriptures ; but, as on other occasions, their appeal was absolutely in vain. The 
adherents of the Romish chm'ch have always shrunk, and will continue to do so, from 
bringing their doctrines and practices to the test of the word of God. And now the 
spirit often displayed at such times appeared ; there was a great uproar, and a general 
cry was raised, " Away with them to the fire ! " One of the preachers was seized, and 
sentenced to perpetual banishment on pain of death ; the other concealed himself, and 
was sought for in vain from house to house. 

For seventeen years, twelve of the confederate states had governed the province of 
Neufchatel, on which they had seized in consequence of its proprietoi-, the dulce of 
Longueville, having borne arms against them in the service of France. His widow, 
Joanna, margravine of Hochberg, was reinstated in her rights in August, 1529. As yet 
nothing had been done to promote the Reformation, though the spiritual domination of 
papacy was not wholly ixnchecked. 

Its cathedral had no services that could be the means of any real benefit. So far from 
being a temple, it was rather a sej^ulture of religion. 

1^0 wonder that the corruption of morals among the clergy was very great. Several 
benefices were held by the dean, an illegitimate son of the reigning prince. Concubinage 
was so common, that the foimder of the chapel of St. WiUiam thought it necessary 
specifically to exclude such as practised it, or were otherwise inunoral, from oiEciating at 
the altar. Nothing was heard of the Scriptures, except as burlesqued and travestied in 
pieces acted by the canons, and which attracted such crowds, that the magistrates were 
apprehensive for the safety of the town. 

Such was the state of the country, when the confederated canons resigned the 
government to the margra-sdne. She appointed as governor a nobleman in alliance Avit" 
the Bernese, but zealous for the ancient superstition, to which the princess was p^ 
strongly attached. The superior clergy were rich, powerful, and corrupt ; the p'^P^'^ 
untaught, rude, and warlike ; so that the state of all classes presented forn-'-^'^^® 
obstacles to the adoption of a pure faith. Farel, however, was not deterr^^- f^°™- 



MYTTENKACH. 377 

attempting to sow the seed of tlie Divine word, nor were favoiu'able circumstances 
altogether wanting. Berne had obtained a preponderating influence, owing to its 
security and friendly disposition towards the princess. The margravine was absent, and 
an impression generally prevailed throughout the province that some changes in religious 
matters were absolutely necessary. 

An evangelical minister, Dr. Wyttenbach, had laboured on the borders, even before 
the commencement of the Eeformation. He had been led to the study of the Scriptures, 
and was minister of the church at Ino, where he diffused the light of Christian faith, as 
he did afterwards more extensivelj'- at Biel. Emer Beynon, of St. Inuer, vicar of Serriere, 
was also another, but timid friend of truth, to whom Farel repaired. Not being allowed 
to enter the pulpit, he began to preach oiitside the church, and continued to do so not- 
withstanding the opposition of the governor and the canons. 

Many persons from the neighbouring towns, whose religious anxieties were awakened, 
came to hear Farel, and invited him to their houses, regardless of the' offence it might give 
to their superiors. He preached in the market-place, in the streets, at the gates, before 
the houses, and in the squares, and with such persuasiveness that he won over many to 
the gospel, as well as secured their personal attachment. The people, not to be kept 
back either by threats or persuasions, crowded to hear his sermons. Some of the lowest 
class, it is true, iustigated by the opponents of the gospel, declared they Avoidd throw Farel 
into a well, but this had no influence on the courageous preacher. He published the 
truth for several days to increasing multitudes. Surprised at his success, he wrote to 
his colleagues as follows : " Unite with me in thanking the Father of mercies for so 
graciously enlightening those who were oppressed with the severest tyranny. God is my 
witness, that I did not leave you, with whom I would gladly live and die, ia order to 
escape bearing the cross. The glory of Christ, and the attachment sho"\vn to his word by 
his disciples in this place, enable me to bear great and inexpressible sufferings ; but by 
the power of Christ, all ~my burdens are rendered light." 

Farel visited Neufchatel from time to time, for the purpose of confirming the newly- 
planted church, and of preaching the gospel in the neighbourhood. Often did opposition 
arise ; at Vevay an attack was made on the congregation, and the mob drove the 
preacher out of the church, reviling and assaulting him. On another occasion, Farel 
was led iato the chapel by the priests, who endeavoured to compel him to fall down 
before an image of the Virgin ; but he steadfastly refused, exclaiming, " Ye' ought to 
worship the only true God, in spirit and in truth, and not a dumb, lifeless, helpless 
image." They had previously laid violent hands on him, but now, exasperated at his 
firmness, they beat him still more severely, so that he lost mvich blood, of which the 
traces were visible six years after on the walls of the chapel. 

Jn 1531, a civil war brolce out in Switzerland, between the five cantons who stiU 
adhered to the errors of Romanism, and those of Zurich and Berne, who strongly 
supported the cause of the Reformation, when the latter were defeated in their own 
territories, with the loss of four hundred men. Z^^dngle, who had accompanied the army 
of the reformers as their chaplain, was slain. "While dying, he was heard to say, " Can 
this be considered as a calamity ? Well ! they are able, indeed, to slay the body, but 
they are not able to kill the soul." [His body, found by the romanists, was burned 
to ashes. 

The outrage on Zwingle's corpse aroused all the anger of Zurich. It rallied its forces, 
but another reverse ere long augmented the desolation of the reformed party. At two 
in the morning their antagonists, the Waldstatten, guided by the bright light of the 
moon, quitted their camp in silence, wearing white shirts over their dresses, that they 
might recognise one other. Their watchword proclaimed their character, " Mary, the 
mother of God ! " 



378 SWITZERLAA^n. 

Stealthily did they glide into a pine forest, near which the reformei's were encamped. 
On they rushed with frightful shouts. Many of them were slain by the armies of Zurich 
and Berne ; but the tide soon turned ; the bravest fell, the rout became general, and 
eight hundred men were left on the battle-field. 

Scarcely had Ferdinand been apprised of Zwingle's death, and of this signal defeat, 
than he exultingly despatched ^the tidings to Charles V,, saying, " This is the first of the 
victories destined to restore the faith." He urged Charles to engage in the work. 
" Remember," he said, " that you are the first prince in Christendom, and that you will 
never have a better opportmiity of covering j^ourself with glory. Assist the countries 
with your troops ; the German sects will perish when they are no longer supported by 
heretical Switzerland." Charles felt the force of the appeal ; it seemed as if the cause of 
the Reformation were now about to be crushed ; — the restoration of popery immediately 
commenced in Switzerland, and Rome proved herself everywhere proud, exacting, and 
ambitious. 

" Thus," says D'Aubigne, " the Reformation, that had deviated from the right path, 
was driven back by the very violence of the assault into its primitive course, having no 
other favour but the word of God. An inconceivable infatuation had taken possession of 
the friends of the Bible. They had forgotten that our Avarfare is not carnal, and had 
appealed to arms "and to battle. But God reigns ; he punishes the churches and the 
people that turn aside from his ways. 

" We haA'e taken a few stones, and piled them as a monument on the battle-field of 
Cappel, in order to remind the church of the great lesson which this terrible catastrophe 
teaches. As we bid farewell, we inscribe on these monumental stones, on the one side, 
these words from God's book, ' Some trust in chariots, and some in horses : but we will 
remember the name of the Lord our God. They are brought down and fallen : but we 
are risen and stand upright.' And on the other, the declaration of the Head of the 
church : ' My kingdom is not of this world.' If, from the ashes of the martyrs at 
Cappel, a voice could be heard, it would be in these very words of the Bible that these 
noble confessors would address, after three centuries, the Christians of our day. That 
the church has no other king than Jesus Christ ; that she ought not to meddle with the 
policy of this world, derive from it her inspiration, and call for its swords, its prisons, 
its treasures ; that she will conquer by the spiritual power which God has deposited in 
her boso!n, and above all, by the reign of her Head ; that she must not expect upon 
earth thrones and mortal triumphs ; but that her march resembles that of her King, 
from the manger to the cross, and from the cross to the crown : — such is the lesson 
to be read on the old bloodstained page that has crept into our simple and evangelical 
narrative." 

Although the Roman Catholics had been successful in this struggle, yet both parties 
were glad to come to terms of peace, and it was ultimately agreed that each should be 
left unmolested in the possession of its religious faith. 

Many are the lessons of wisdom which the remembrance of the events of the progress 
of the Reformation in Switzerland may inculcate on those who ponder the annals of the 
world aright. Wherein the friends of the Reformation turned aside from the method 
which God had devised, they had to learn lessons of solemn warning. When they forgot 
the sjDirituality of their weapons, and they hastened in their own strength to arms and 
to battle, they were rudely reproved and repulsed. "But if God teaches his people 
great lessons. He also gives them great deliverances. The bolt had fallen from heaven. 
The Reformation seemed to be little better than a lifeless body cumbering the 
ground, and whose dissevered limbs were about to be reduced to ashes. But God 
raises up the dead. New and more glorious destinies were awaiting the Gospel of 
Jesus Christ at the foot of the Alps. At the south-western extremity of Swit- 



CALVIN. 379 

zerland, in a great valley which the white giant of the mountains points out from 
afar ; on the banks of the Leman lake, at the spot where the Rhone, clear and blue 
as the sky above us, rolls its majestic waters ; on a small hill that the foot of Csesar 
had once trod, and on which the steps of another conqueror, of a Gaul, of a Picardine, 
were destined ere long to leave their ineifaceable and glorious traces, stood an ancient 
city, as yet covered with the dense shadows of popery, but which God was about to raise 
to be a beacon to the church and a bulwark to Christianity." 

It was well, indeed, for Switzerland that all her champions of truth did not fall on 
the field of Cappel, and not onty were Farel and Viret assiduous in the great work to 
which they devoted themselves, but they were, ere long, joined by one who manifested 
the possession of no common courage and power of action. In the year 1536, Calvin 
arrived at Geneva, and immediately united in heart and labour with Farel and Viret, 
who had by their energetic labours in the cause of the Reformation produced a powerful 
influence upon French Switzerland. Already protestantism had attained great success 
in Geneva, which had contracted close alliance with Berne, but its moral tone was so far 
from healthy that, although the talents of Calvin commanded respect, his sanctity was 
condemned and ridiculed ; and this feeling, combined with the hatred he received from 
the romanists, intimately compelled his withdrawment from the city. But though thus 
exiled, he was before long earnestly requested to return, and he resumed his labours for 
the furtherance of the great cause of the Reformation, and at the same time continued 
the preparation of the numerous works which have had so large an influence upon the 
theology of subsequent ages. 

In 1549, Calvin, accompanied by Farel, visited the Swiss churches, and wrote two 
very able letters to Socinus, the founder of the sect called Socinians. In the following 
year, he obtained the direction of the consistory at Geneva, for the commrmication of 
private as well as public religious instruction, and for a total disregard of aU feasts and 
saint days. Subsequently, controversy again agitated the church ; the enemies of 
Calvin misrepresented his sentiments, and endeavoured to excite a general antipathy, not 
only to his person, but his doctrines. But he was graciously defended from evil by the 
providence of God. 

The church of Berne fell into a state of internal dissension, and was at variance 
respecting the sacrament with the churches of Valois. Such difierences were an increasing 
source of trouble to Farel, and he employed every means in his power to bring about a 
better state of things. At length, with the assistance of Calvin, he prevailed on the 
churches at Geneva, Neufchatel, Schafi'hausen, St. Gall, and Bale, to sign an agreement, 
to which, also, the ministers of Berne gave a verbal assent. BulUnger transmitted the 
articles of union to England, and, through Calvin and Farel, they were communicated to 
the friends of the gospel in France, where they occasioned great joy. 

A new formulary, called " The Interim," was obtruded on the protestants by Charles V. 
It received its name because it was only to be used imtil a general council should decide 
the points at issue between protestants and romanists. It was drawn up by three divines, 
at the order of the emperor, and sent to the pope for his approbation, but this was 
refused. Charles V., therefore, published the imperial constitute, called " The Interim," 
wherein he declared it was his wiU that all his catholic dominions should, for the future, 
inviolably observe the customs, statutes, and ordinances of the universal church ; that 
those who had separated themselves from it should either re-unite themselves to it, or, at 
least, conform to this constitution ; and that all should quietly expect the decisions of the 
general council." 

This ordinance was published in the diet of Augsburgh, May 16th, 1548 ; but this 
device did not please either the pope or the protestants. The Lutheran preachers alleged 
that it re-established poperj"-, and declared that they would not receive it. Some chose 



380 SWiTZKllL.'UND. 

rather to quit their livings and chairs than to subscribe it. It was rejected by the duke 
of Saxony. Calvin and several others wrote against it. 

Calvin died in 1564 — an event which iilled the city with lamentation. The state, 
according to the testimony of Beza, sought in vain its wisest citizen, the church deplored 
the decease of its faithful pastor, the school wept for the loss of such a teacher ; all, in 
fine, lamented, as deprived of a common parent and consoler. 

Farel did not long survive the loss of Calvin. He proceeded to Metz, where he 
delivered a powerful discourse, but the exertion was too much for his debilitated frame, 
and he was obliged to take to his bed. The people gathered around him, and these he 
exhorted and comforted ; while they, amazed at his fortitude, exclaimed one to another, 
" See, this man is the very same that he always has been ! We never knew him dejected, 
even when danger made our spirits fail. When we were ready to give up everything, 
he remained steadfast, confiding in his Lord, and cheering us by his Christian heroism ! " 
He gently fell asleep on the 13th of September, 1565. 

One of his biographers remarks, that " without lessening the praise and commendation 
due to any one, Farel, in reference to his anxiety, toil, and exertions in the work of the 
Reformation and the ministerial office, and his entire self-consecration, stood in the very 
first rank." 

As a preacher, he imquestionably gained a high position for effect and usefulness. 
Men of aU. ranks and classes, from the senator to the peasant, confessed the power of his 
eloquence. Strangers of distinction went from a great distance to hear him preach. 
Animated, ardent, scriptural, and practical — making powerful appeals to the heart, or 
probing it by various and searching inquiries, mingled with prayer to God — he carried 
his auditory awa:y as with a torrent. 

On one occasion, expressing his abhorrence of those who forbade the use of the Holy 
Scriptures, he exclaimed, " My God, what an abomination ! Canst thou, sun, shed thy 
beams on such a country ? Canst thou, earth, bear such people upon thee, and yield 
thy fruits to those who thus despise their Creator ? And thoii, God, art thou so com- 
passionate, so slow to wrath and vengeance against those who commit such great 
wickedness and sin against thee ? Hast thou not appointed thy Son king over aU ? 
Shall that holy revelation which thou hast imparted through him for our instruction be 
forbidden as a useless, and even dangerous document to those who read it ? Arise, 
Lord ! Show that it is thy will that thy Son should be honoured, and the sacred statutes 
of his kingdom should be known and observed by all. Let the trumpet of thy holy 
gospel sound throughout the world. Grant strength to all true evangelists, and 
destroy all the propagators of error, that the whole earth may serve thee, and call on thy 
name with the profouudest adoration." 

Li his last production, he argued A^ery warmly against the adoration of the cross, 
though it was urged, as it is to this day, not only by Romanists, but by those who 
imitate their practices, that the people do not adore the cross, but celebrate through its 
medium the benefits arising from our Lord's death upon it. He admitted that such an 
elevation of mind was possible with a few individuals, but contended that, as the great 
mass of the people never rise beyond externals, that which is external, and is not 
commanded by Christ, should be put away. His recollections of his own acts of adora- 
tion, in early life, filled him with penitential sorrow ; and the inore deeply such 
superstitions had once been rooted in his mind, the more was he impelled in his old age 
to write against them, in order that all infected with the same poison might be cured as 
he had been. Owing to the propensity of mankind to be enthralled by the objects of 
sense, he looked upon the use of images, even when not professedly worshipped, as 
always a great temptation to idolatry. 

In the same work, he showed that the Holy Scriptures were the only rule of Christian 



FAKET,. 381 

faith and practice, and proved that the addition of ceremonies and external splendour 
operated to diminish the glory of the gospel, and to obscure the radiance of the great Sun 
of righteousness. He thus concludes : " Let us beseech our blessed Lord, that he would 
form out of all a pure and holy church, free from all the filth of popery, and from all 
human traditions, so that Jesus and his commands should alone be honoured, in all 
purity and simplicity, so that we may live in him without spot, and he in us, by true 
faith, serving Grod our Father, who ever liveth and reigneth with the Son and the Holy 
Ghost. Amen." 

The existiag memerials of this truly eminent and useful man are graphically described 
by Dr. "W. L. Alexander. Alluding to Neufchatel, he says :- " The most interesting 
spot in the town to me was the old castle, gloomy and black as it is, with the church 
adjoining. Both are memorable edifices in connexion with the history of the Reforma- 
tion. In the former reigned, at that time, the gay and haughty Joanne de LongueviUe, 
by whose sanction and authority the most vigorous attempts were made to beat back the 
tide which, under the guidance of the energetic Farel, was fast rising and advancing to 
sweep away the power of popery in this canton ; and in the latter were held those 
memorable conferences, and were delivered those fervid harangues, which ended in the 
entire subversion of the papal iafluence in Neufchatel. '\VTiat a pair to meet on that 
narrow terrace in fierce conflict — the representative of the high-born and haughty heii'ess 
of the princely house of Chalons, and the poor, homeless, uncom-tly, fiery preacher, who 
had penetrated her domain ! Ha ! how it would have startled that proud lady, amid 
her seignorial dignities and feudal majesty, with her princely revenues, her hosts of 
armed retainers, and her crowds of abject vassals — not daring to keep or to change their 
faith save at her august bidding — had some one, gifted to glance into futurit}^, whispered 
in her ear, that not only should she be utterly worsted in that impending conflict, but 
that it would be to it she should owe her place ia history — nay, that it should be from 
her relations with that obscure adventurer, that the proud race of the De Longuevilles 
should be chiefly indebted for being remembered in after ages by any of the human 
species, besides compilers of peerages and members of heralds' colleges ! 

" On the terrace before the church Farel lies buried, but his grave is not now 
to be distiaguished. It matters not ; enough for that o'erworked and o'erwearied 
body, that here it found rest ; and as for the fervid spirit that animated it, its record 
is on high. 

" Who that is interested in the memory of Farel can visit jSTeufchatel without 
hastening to the little village of Serriere ? This memorable spot, where the reformer 
landed, and where he was permitted first to lift up his voice in proclamation of the 
gospel on this side the lake, is about a mile distant from Neufchatel, a little to the left of 
the Geneva road. It is altogether a remarkable place. A stream, issuing suddenly from 
an opening in the mountaia, rushes through a brief course of not more than half a mile 
down a narrow glen, over which the road passes by a bridge. The sides of the glen are 
studded with miUs, the wheels of which are turned by the stream, which thus renders 
itself for its length perhaps the most diligent and useful little stream in the world. At 
the bottom of the glen, where it opens upon the lake, clusters the village of Serriere, with 
its ancient church. On a stone near this church Farel stood when he preached his first 
sermon ia the canton of Neufchatel — a stone of compromise on the part of the perplexed 
Emer Beynon, vicar of the parish, who, not hostile to Farel, would fain have him preach, 
but, fearful for Emer Beynon, dared not to open for him the doors' of the church. It is a 
plain, rough stone, in nowise noticeable save for this, that during the space of an hour or 
so it was the throne of a king of men, where he uttered those words which laid the 
foimdation of that spiritual empire which God had given him to establish. It is worthy 
of remark, also, that from this little hamlet issued the first protestant edition of the 



d»2 SWITZERLAND. 

French. Scriptures— that curious, coarse paper, little folio of 1535, which all bibUoma- 
niacs are crazy to possess, but which very few have so much as seen." 

Interesting would be the task, did the occasion permit, of delineating with more 
minuteness of detail the progress of that mighty change which came over the people of 
these interesting lands in reference to the great realities of Divine truth ; but, however 
brief and abrupt may be the sketch we have furnished, we are forbidden further to 
expatiate. But if the mind of the student of classic lore is kindled into exultation and 
rapture when he treads the shores of Greece and Italy ; — if patriotism be awakened into 
imwonted ardour as the historian visits the plains of Marathon, and gazes upon Thermo- 
pylae ; and if piety glow with holier fire, as the isle of lona bursts upon the view — ^what 
mind wiU not be touched with many a feeling of joyful remembrance, what heart will 
fail to give forth its deepest utterances of joy and thankfulness, as the traveller treads the 
soil of Switzerland, climbs those mountain slopes where the noble souls of that land of 
heroes have had to hide themselves from their foes in dens and caves of the earth, and 
wanders in those valleys from which have so often arisen at once the song of holy praise 
and the wail of sorrow which persecution has extorted from its victims ? 

How vividly are all the remembrances of the past recalled amid these scenes ! As the 
psalm-songs of the peasantry — returning, perhaps, from their religious services — strike 
upon the ear, the mind seems involuntarily to revert to those other days when sighs and 
groans were wafted by the mountain breezes. The calmness of the present seems by 
very contrast to remind us of the struggles of the past, when these fields, now so tranquil 
and peaceful, were scenes of persecution and slaughter. Scarcely a spot can be traced 
among the mountains, in at least some districts, which has not been the theatre of per- 
secution ; and it has been emphatically afiirmed, that were the world to rear monuments 
to faith and piety, like those it erects to its own heroes, we should at every instant 
stumble on some venerable ruin — the memorial of departed excellence. "Well may we 
rejoice in the remembrance, that while a name or a deed of merely worldly greatness 
may require stone or marble to give to it perpetuity in the memory of men, that those 
acts of Christian resignation and holy effort which the good have achieved, have had 
a real and living influence — unostentatious, and perhaps unobserved — on the destinies 
of truth, which will ultimately spread triumphant over the earth, and go down to the 
very end of time. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 



THE CAKTON OF BERNE ITS CAPITAL. 



Tke canton of Berne, so conspicuous in the history of the past which has just heen 
traced, is the largest, most populous, and one of the most beautiful in Switzerland. 
Though situated in the western part of that countrjr, it borders on the eastern cantons, 
while others surround it on the north, west, and south. It extends about eighty-five 
miles from north to south, from the frontiers of the French department of the Haut E-hin. 
to the high chain of Alps which divides the southern valleys of. the Bernese Oberland 
from the canton of the Valais. 

Like most of the Swiss cantons, its shape is very irregular, and its breadth, 
therefore, varies considerably, being greatest in the southern part of the canton, 
between the frontiers of Uri and Unterwalden to the east, and those of Yaud and 
Freyburg to the west, where it is about sixty miles ; more northwards, between Lucerne 
and Freyburg, it is not quite thirty miles in some places ; it then widens again 
north of its capital, extending about fifty miles from the frontiers of Lucerne to 
the river Doubs, which forms its western boimdary on the side to France ; but here 
part of the canton of Soleure projects into the Bernese territory, and intervenes in 
the Hne of its breadth. The southern part of the canton is very mountainous, 
consisting of high valleys between the offsets of the chain of Alps which divides 
it from the A'"alais and from Uri and Unterwalden. Further north, and round the 
city of Berne, the ground, though hilly, is not rugged, consisting of level tracts, 
and some pleasant fertile valleys. The most northern part beyond Bienne is almost 
entirely covered by the various ridges and offsets of the Jura mountains up to the 
frontiers of France. 

The climate varies with the elevation, and is besides remarkably subject to sudden 
changes of temperature ; even in Interlachen, where it is the mildest, after a warm day 
very severe frosts frequently occur at night. Rains and fogs are frequent ; but the 
canton is generally considered healthy. It is divided into twenty-eight prefectures, 
mider four principal divisions : the Oberland, the countiy of Berne, Emmenthal, and the 
old bishopric of Bale. 

Already we have visited many parts of the banks of the Aar, its principal river, and of 
other rivers, which are its affluents, and some of its highest mountains and noblest 
glaciers. We have also had proof that it is the richest agricultural district in Switzer- 
land, and looked repeatedly at its cattle, which form the chief property of the 
inhabitants of the Oberland. In some parts great advantages are obviously possessed. 
The farm-houses of the Emmenthal, for example, have more even than the usual 
amplitude of roof, and their wooden boundaries, with the additional space over which the 
immense thatch spreads itself, seem to contain every kind of rural comfort. There the 
rustic, yet appropriate litter of the Bernese cottages meets the view of the traveller ; 



S84 SWITZEETAND. 

milk-pails frestly scoured and ranged in the sun ; herbs spread out to dry, or wood piled 
up ; here an array of bee-hives, there an accumulation of rakes, barrows, scythes, 'and 
other implements of husbandry ; and eyerywhere a profusion of hollyhocks and margue- 
rites, giving to the little gardens their gaiety of bloom. In this canton there is a 
prodigality of horned cattle, and, what the passer-by can better appreciate, pleasant 
villages, while cream, honey, and butter, are the overflowings of the land. 

Should the traveller proceed from Thun to Berne, on whichever side he looks the 
appearance of ease and comfort will gratify the eye — a combined result of the fertility of 
the soil, a skilful husbandry, and the orderly habits which characterise the Bern ese 
peasant. Especially will he be impressed by the spectacle if, as a well-wisher to his 
race, he has deeply pondered the condition of the people in other parts of the land. 
A multitude of dwellings, scattered over the smiling hills, are seen through the foliage 
of the trees, and on each side of the road, behind thick hedges carefully trimmed, 
rises aloft a row of cherry-trees with wide-spreading branches. Almost every family 
has some Kttle possession, and here property is sacredly respected. The farm-houses 
have a substantial aijpearance which is truly pleasing: many of them which are 
below the level of the road have a sort of drawbridge, by which carts are enabled to 
reach the hay-loft or granary, and deposit there the hay or sheaves from the field. 
Fountains give forth clear waters on every side, and even " the stercoraceoiis heap " has a 
tidiness of appearance which is a national characteristic. 

Many of the wealthy Bernese peasants hold from two hundred to three hundred acres, 
oxjucharts of land, eachjuchart comprising 40,000 sqiiare French feet, besides possessing 
considerable capital in money, which enables them to practise farming with ability and 
success, as well as the rearing of cattle on a large scale. Almost all of them have 
received elementary education, and thej^ constitute the notables of their respective 
villages and districts. They enjoy considerable local influence, and are a kind of lords of 
the country : shooting on their own lands, fishing in theii- own streams and ponds, and 
giving employment to theii- poor neighbour's. 

The lowest rank of the country people, called hausler, or tauner, are cottagers and 
journeymen, who have a small house or hut, with a patch of ground or garden and a 
few fruit-trees. They are rude and iminformed, improvident, and generally in debt : 
they marry very early in life, and rear up swarms of children, who go about to pilfer 
and to beg. Between the hof bauern, as the wealthy are called, and the tauner there is 
an intermediate class of peasants, or small proprietors, possessing from ten to forty 
jucharts, and this class has the reputation of being the most moral of the three. 

On approaching the capital of the canton, the number of coimtry-houses, built of stone, 
and belonging to the wealthy citizens, increases. They are neat and rural, without 
any refinement of architecture, yet substantial and spacious, enjoying a fine prospect, in 
the midst of beautiful trees and grass-plots, and a profusion of fountains and flowers. 
The roads and the public buildings are the only magnificent works in the canton of 
Berne ; but the roads through it are wide, well constructed, and kept in excellent repair. 
The mails and the diligences are also very well organised, and the inns on the roads 
are good. 

As in most other parts of Switzerland, the land in the canton of Berne is di\aded 
equally among all the children. "When the farmers are in good circixmstances, the law of 
inheritance does not too greatly subdivide the land, as one of the sons generallj^ purchases 
or rents his brothers' shares, or the brothers continue to live together, and in common, to 
cultivate the farm. In the Emmenthal it descends to the yoimgest son, who pays his 
brothers and sisters their portion by mortgaging the estate. But in the poorer districts, 
the increase of the population, the minute subdivision of property, and the consequent 
practice of raising money by mortgages, have reduced manj^ to beggary. 




THE CITT OF BERNE. 



dob SWITZEELAND. 

A custom, wMcL. has tended to encourage early marriages, exists iu many communes : 
it is that of giving a yoimg man when he marries a portion of the common land, besides 
other privileges, which he could not possess as a bachelor. In. the seventeenth century, 
when numerous hordes of beggars were strolling as a nuisance through the land, poor 
laws were established in the canton of Berne. The commimes were then ordered to tax 
themselves, in order to provide for their respective poor. But this compulsory system of 
relief has tended to increase and perpetuate the pauperism of the coimtry. The cantonal 
government has endeavom-ed to check the evil by various ordinances, one of which 
forbids any jDcrson, who receives assistance, from marrying without the permission of the 
municipal council of the commune ; still further, the commune may oblige any person 
whom it has once aided, to repay the amoimt whenever he becomes able to do so ; and 
other regidations as to the superintendence of the conduct of such persons have been 
adopted and enforced. 

Por nearly three centuries after the events already detailed, the territory of Berne 
contiuued to extend itself over the forest part of Switzerland, from the banks of the Lake 
of Greneva to those of the Rhine, besides several bailiwicks which it possessed in common 
with other cantons in Thurgau and other parts. The government of Berne gave no 
share in either the legislature or the executive to the population of the territorj'-, but it 
left to the country towns the municipal franchises which they enjoyed at the time of the 
conquest, the election of their local magistrates, and the administration of the communal 
property. 

The canton was divided into bailiwicks, and the baillis were taken from among the 
councillors of Berne. They were the judges of the district, as well as tlio administrators 
of the public revenue and of the domains of the state. The baillis of the canton itself 
were under the immediate inspection of the government, to which there was an appeal 
from their decisions; but others were sent by turns to the subject bailiwicks held by 
several cantons together in the Italian valleys, where they were under little or no 
control, and where they often acted the part of avariciovis despots. 

The members of the sovereign council of Berne were elected for life, and every ten 
years there was an election to supply the vacancies that had occurred dining that period. 
The coimcillors themselves were the electors ; and as old families became extinct, and 
it was a ride that there should not be less than eighty families having members in the 
great council, vacancies were supplied from new families of burghers. Still the number 
of families, in whose hands the government was vested, was comparativeljr small, and 
. several rmsuccessful attempts were made in the eighteenth century to alter this state 
of things, and to reinstate the assembly of the body of the bui'ghers. The discontent, 
however, was limited, and did not extend to the coimtry population. The administration 
was conducted in an orderly, unostentatious, and economical manner ; and the taxes 
were not only few but light. 

The historian Miiller says, " It would be difficult to find in the history of the world a 
commonwealth which, for so long a period, has been so wisely administered as that of 
Berne. In other aristocracies the subjects v^ere kept in darlmcss, poverty, and bar- 
barism, factions were encouraged amongst thein, while justice winked at crime or took 
bribes ; and this was the case in the dependencies of Veiiice. But the people of Bern© 
stood with regard to their patricians rather in the relation of clients towards their 
patrons, than in that of subjects towards their sovereigns." 

Zschokke, a later Swiss historian, thiis alludes to Berne and other aristocracies of 
Switzerland : " They acted like scrupulous guardians. The magistrates, even the highest 
among them, received small salaries ; fortimes were made only in foreign service, or in 
the common bailiwicks of the subject districts. Although the laws were defective and 
trials secret, the love of justice prevailed in the comitry ; power wisely respected the 



rights of the humblest freeman. In the principal towns, especially the protestant ones, 
■wealth fostered science and the fine arts. Berne opened fine roads, raised public 
buildings, fostered agriculture in its fine territory, relieved the districts which were 
visited by storms and immdations, fovmded establishments for the sick and the helpless, 
and yet contrived to accumulate considerable sums in its treasury .... But the old 
patriotism of the Swiss slumbered ; it was replaced by selfishness, and the mind remained 
stationary ; the various cantons were estranged from each other ; instruction spread in 
the towns, but coarseness and ignorance prevailed in the country." 

A new page of the history of this canton was opened when the French nation had 
levelled the throne of its kings, terrified the world by the splendour of its triumphs, and 
defeated the confederacy of imited sovereigns. Remaining victorious, but insulated in 
Europe, and wishing a guarantee for her future tranquillity, she resolved to surroimd 
herself with cantons whose organisation resembled her own. She therefore favoured 
revolutions among her neighbours to the utmost of her power, and seeing that intestine 
divisions were rending the Helvetic confederacy, aimed to turn them to her own advan- 
tage. Fomenting existing discords, she fed the hatred and the hopes of contending 
parties, excited the cantons against each other, and thus prepared the way for a revolu- 
tion in Switzerland which was soon to break out. 

The canton of Berne had already penetrated the secret designs of France, its feelings 
were shared with Zurich and Bale, and with her they had almost come into open rupture ; 
while the Waldstatten, still in security, followed their ancient rovitine, and did not 
trouble themselves with the alarms of their neighbours. They thought that if they did 
not interfere with the affairs of others they should be equally free from intrusion, and 
that the pacific prudence of their conduct would secure them from every danger. But 
tlie first days of December, 1797, ushered in the procursive signs of that terrible hurri- 
cane which, after threatening for seven months, was, at length, totally to overthrow the 
goA^ernment under which these people had lived for the last four centimes. Zurich, the 
first canton of the Helvetic league, now invited the others to a general conference, the 
purpose of which was to concert measures for warding off the evils with which the 
country was now so seriously menaced. 

Soon after, Berne announced that the French troops had taken possession of the 
Erguel and the bishopric of Bale, and that the canton of Berne was noAv exposed to the 
peril of invasion ; and it invited Schwitz to send a representative, and to prepare to 
render eiiectual succour. 

The council of that canton heard with no little disquietude the tidings from Berne and 
Zurich, and not daring to take upon itself any measures in such a crisis, it convoked a 
general assembly of the people. Aloj^s, Weber, and Meinrad Schuler, who enjoyed the 
public confidence, were therefore nominated to assist at Arau in the conference demanded 
by the canton of Zurich. They received full powers to do, in conjimction with the other 
Helvetic states, Avhatever might be judged proper to secure and confirm the quiet, safety, 
and general welfare of the confederacy. But they were expressly charged that, — should 
anything be agitated which might endanger the liberty, the religion, and the safety of 
the country, or the constitution and integrity of the Helvetic body, — to communicate 
to the diet the decree Avhich the assembly had just passed, by which the people 
of Schwitz declared, " that they would remain faithful to the religion and laws which 
they held from their ancestors, and wordd expose themselves to the greatest dangers, and 
make the greatest sacrifices, rather than permit them to be in the least degree infringed." 
Charles Eeding, an able politician and dexterous diplomatist, was sent at the same time 
to Berne. 

Meanwhile, the canton of Berne was greatly agitated. For more than two hundred 
years, it had ruled over the smiling countries bounded on the east and west by the Jura, 

2 c 2 



388 SWITZERLAND. 

and on the soutli by the lake of Geneva, and known by the name of the Pays de Vaud. 
This country, resembling- a delicious garden, combined all the advantages of a temperate 
climate. Vevay is famous throughout Europe for the beauty of its flowers, and the rose- 
mary and the fig prosper alike in the open air, while the people cultivate the vine and 
sow the land with all kinds of grain. But the constitution of the country, and the internal 
organisation of the towns and vUlages, had long opposed the advance of the public pros- 
perity. The people from time immemorial had enjoyed franchises and privileges, but 
these had been insensibly annulled by the constant usurpation of Berne. 

The Vaudois, excited by some of the boldest of their fellow-citizens, but still more 
by the secret promises of France, loudly demanded the advantages of which they had thus 
been entirely deprived. Berne irritated them by her refusal, and the favour of France 
exasperated their demands. To extinguish the flame that broke out on all sides, the 
government employed rigorous means. Some individuals who had, with great spirit, 
pleaded the cause of liberty and equality were imprisoned ; but these strokes of authority 
were far from having the expected success. 

France looked with pleasure on the breach that had been made between the two parties, 
and into it she. now entered. On the ground of ancient treaties, she assumed the right to 
mediate between the Pays de Vaud and the canton of Berne, and declared by the mouth 
of Mengaud, her charge d'affaires with the Helvetic body, that she would render Berne 
responsible for the life and safety of the persons arrested. The coimcil replied that it was 
accountable for its actions to God alone, and that its sole arbiters were its constitution and 
laws. Thus, France, arrayed in power, stood on one side, and Berne, with its sovereign 
rights, on the other ; the two countries being 6n the brink of a complete rupture. 

France now caused its arms to advance towards the western frontiers of Switzerland ; 
while that country assembled troops for its defence, and warned the confederates to 
maintain their guard. The directorial government then subsisting, abusing the right of 
the strongest, and substituting intrigue and avarice for sound policy, demanded in 
menacing terms, what was the object of the preparations of Berne. The reply of the 
Avoyer and the council was, " We do not wish for war, but only to make our frontiers 
respected mthout, and to maintain our sovereignty within." Mengaud, without waiting 
for an answer, wrote again, " I declare to you that the members of your government 
shall be personally responsible to the French directory for the safety of the persons and 
properties of the inhabitants of the Pays de Vaud, who have become the objects of your 
vexation, and of the benevolence of the French republic." 

This insulting letter, fiercely breathing war, left nothing to be revealed as to the 
designs of the French republic. Berne did not admit that it had taken arbitrary 
measures against the Pays de Vaud, and denied the existence of treaties which authorised 
the Vaudois to invoke foreign interference. It continued its military preparations, 
invited its allies to hold their troops ready to march on the first summons ; and in order 
to neglect no conciliatory means, it sent to the Pays de Vaud two deputies of the Diet, 
enjoining them to restore order and tranquillity, even at the cost of the greatest 
sacrifices, provided only that they were asked in a proper and legal manner. Peding 
was allowed by Schwitz to be one of this commission, requiring a formal declaration on 
his part, that neither himself nor his canton was responsible for the results of the 
negociation. Freyburg, Soleure, and the Valais, also consented to the sending of 
deputies. 

On arriving at Lausanne, they immediately announced the object of their mission, 
inviting the people to state their grievances, and promising their good ofiices to obtain 
redress. But the people, agitated by various passions, were far from agreement among 
themselves. Three parties were, however, easily distinguishable. The great majority 
of the country demanded with moderation from the canton of Berne, the re-establish- 



ment of their rights and franchises in all their integrity ; yet having no intention to 
detach itself from the reigning city, and still less to avail itself of the dangerous support 
of France. Others had formed the bold project of taking advantage of existing 
circumstances, to cause the Pays de Vaud to be declared independent, and constituted 
the fourteenth canton of the Helvetic league. And others were desirous, in imitation 
of France, to introduce into Switzerland the democratic system and national repre- 
sentation. 

The deputies, in order to gain the majority, received their demands favourably, and as 
the Bernese baillis had fled, and all the legal authorities were either disunited or absolutely 
powerless, they entered into correspondence with the clubs or committees, as the sole means 
which they coxild employ for acting efficientlj' on the people. Soon acquiring the confi- 
dence of the leading men of these parties, they succeeded in imparting a relish for moderate 
coimcils, and obtained a declaration in which they were embodied. This declaration 
intimated that, according to all expectations, the Pays de Vaud woidd become pacified, 
were the formation of an assembly jjermitted, composed, at most, of sixty members of 
the committees, which should receive the complaints and desires of the country, and trans- 
mit them to the seat of power. In case this measure should be approved at Berne, the 
principal inhabitants engaged to use their utmost influence with the French directory, in 
order to prevent interference with this domestic arrangement. 

But Berne, in its impatience, hearing that there were still in the Pays de Yaud many- 
communities which remained faithful to its government, resolved to make use of them in 
conquering the coimtry. It was desirous, by a stroke of authority, instantly to termi- 
nate the quarrel, the prolongation of which would put to hazard the honour of the re- 
public. Whilst, therefore, the deputies at Lausanne were employing all their efibrts in 
persuading Berne to adopt a pacific settlement. Colonel Weiss received orders to assemble 
the partisans of government, to form them into an army, to get possession of the Castle of 
Chillon, of which the insurgents had made themselves masters, and to re-establish 
order by force of arms. 

The deputies strongly opposed these measures, which were calculated to exasperate the 
public indignation, and to rouse to a general revolt. They appealed alike to Colonel Weiss 
and to the coimcil of Berne, and declared that if this course were persisted in, they could 
no longer act as Helvetic representatives. 

At the head of the Bernese government there was now an aged man, the Avoyer Steiguer, 
regarded as full of tact and experience, who united to much strength of character an 
implacable hatred "of the new organisation of France. The senate of Berne, guided by 
him, persisted in its violent resolutions, and confirmed the orders given to Colonel Weiss. 
The deputies, in consequence, instantly quitted Lausanne, issuing on their departure a 
second proclamation, rather for the purpose of acquitting themselves of their final duty, 
than from any hope of leading to the restoration of tranquillity. 

Reding appeared before the council of Berne, and addressed it with great wisdom and 
energy. He described the nature of the troubles in the Pays de Vaud ; represented the 
imanimous wish of the citizens to be restored to their ancient privileges ; and painted, in 
glowing colours, the critical situation of this people, dreading, on the one side, the 
vengeance of Berne, and, on the other, the dangerous intervention of a foreign power. 
" A people," he said, " who think themselves driven to extremities have recourse to the 
most violent means. Those whom I have the honour here to represent, had solemnly 
resolved to shed with joy the last drop of their blood for the maintenance of our consti- 
tution. I repeat to you this assurance in their name, and in the most positive manner ; 
but I ought to confess to you, with the same franlsness, that your faithful allies of the 
canton of Schwitz would learn with the most sensible grief, that before essaying our arms 
against a foreign enemy, we had stained them with the blood of our brethren — in the 



3ff0 S-SVITZEKIAITD. 

blood of a people -wliom Providence liad entrusted to the paternal care of wise and 
enliglitened magistrates." 

The deputies of the general diet wrote to the same effect ; but the goTernment of 
Berne, blinded by a proud sense of the justice of its course, and reduced to that point in 
which men even take counsel from despair, despised every idea of condescension towards 
its -vassals, whose duty, it supposed, was only to obey, and rejected the moderate advice 
of the allied cantons. 

Some days afterwards, however, Colonel Weiss, who shortly before had flattered him- 
self with striking terror into the insurgents, and bringing back the former state of things 
by the mere display of arms, confirmed the alarming recital of Reding. " In all our 
-warlike preparations," he said, " I sec only the prognostics of a disastrous Avar, and the 
signal for an useless effusion of blood. I am convinced that all the means of rigour jou 
can employ will have no other result than that of spreading the revolution over the whole 
of Switzerland, and preparing the fate of French emigrants for its governors. In my 
judgment, what wisdom and morality point out to be done in this conjuncture, is to treat 
this people with indulgence and kindness ; to give way for a time to the passion that 
impels them ; to watch over the assembly of deputies, and to endeavour to gain their 
confidence." 

The canton of SchT\'itz made another attempt, of wliicli the object was to induce Berne 
to prefer measures of conciliation to those of rigour which it was about to put in practice. 
It insisted iipon satisfying the Vaudois in their demands, and strongly advised a sacrifice 
now necessary for the general good. But these words of peace were likewise throAvn 
away, and Schwitz recalled its deputies in order to shelter itself from the fatal conse- 
quences v/hich such obstinacy threatened to bring on the whole Helvetic body. But it 
was not long before Schwitz itself was disturbed by domestic troubles, and lost all hope of 
resuming its dominion over the country of la Marche. Tlio tovvTis of Wesen and TJznach, 
too, solicited exemptions and privileges ; events, indeed, succeeded each other with so 
much rapidity, and in so alarming a manner, that it could not be determined how or 
where to negociate with them. All the countries shoolt off their chains and advanced 
with steps more or less hasty in the career of revolution. The jieople who surrounded 
the Waldstatten set themselves in motion, and already were heard the cries of liberty 
raised by those who dwelt beyond the Alps. 

But before long victorj^ crowned the arms of France, though its government had not 
flattered itself with so easy a triiimph over the Helvetic league. If the Swiss, more 
united, had made a proper use of the advantages which two victories o\ev the French 
would have procured them, they might have attacked France on its Aveakest side, have 
made a useful diversion, and, perhaps, have given the emperor a pretext for renewing 
the Avar, and time to come to their succour. But the directory foresaw Avhat might have , 
happened ; and in its quarrel vfith the three cantons in the neighbourhood of France, it 
laboiired AAith great dexterity to separate their interests from those of the rest of Switzer- 
land. This it was which induced it to employ all imaginable artifices to paralyze the 
action of the small cantons ; to be so lavish, here of promises, there of menaces ; and to 
give its agents in Switzerland orders so pei'plexed and contradictory ; and great was 
their exultation when they received the unexpected intelligence that Berne had surren- 
dered, and with it Freyburg and Soleure. They had not been able to conceiA^e that they 
should, at so smaU an expense, conquer these last ramparts of liberty, and subdue men 
whom Europe had long been accustomed to reckon in the number of its bravest 
warriors. 

But the Swiss were resolved not to lie down in abject submission, and when negotia- 
tion failed, their rage and indignation attained their utmost height. A general 
insurrection took place in all the country between the lakes of Waldsfatten and 



.BERNE. 391 

Constance, and througli tlie wliole chain of the Alps. All the heat that passion, 
enthusiasm, and fanaticism could kindle, was the consequence of these tidings. Fathers 
and mothers exhorted their children to die for their country. Some invoiced the anger 
of heaven on the destroj-ers of the liberty and religion of the Swiss ; others predicted, in 
the strongest terms, the vengeance of the Almighty. The disastrous days long since 
passed seemed to be renewed,- except that FrancS had taken the place of Austria; the 
tree of liberty which she Avas desirous of planting, in the eyes of the enraged inhabitants 
of the Waldstatten, was the abhorred cap of Gessler, before which they were to render 
homage. It is a curious fact that long before this time, in pictures representing the 
action of William Tell, the latter was always clad in the national Helvetic colours, green, 
red, and yellow, while Gessler, a person of odious memory to the Swiss, was constantly 
attired, from head to foot, as well as his attendants, in the three French colours. The 
statement may still be verified in the chapels of Tell at Burglen and Uric^ as well as in 
other places. This circumstance contributed to the decided aversion of the small cantons 
towards the French — -a feeling which now attained its utmost exasperation. 

War, dreadful war, now raged ; and it was only after many a scene of deadly strife 
that peace was restored. Even then, Switzerland soon experienced the fate of a country 
pacified by foreign conquerors, and mocked with a nominal independence held under their 
good pleasure. The new constitution which made it a republic, one and indivisible, gave 
it a directory and a legislature exactly on the French plan ; and when they proceeded to 
the exercise of sovereignty they were .told that, notwithstanding their independence^ 
they were to act under the direction of France in everything which, however remotely, 
affected her interests. As the inevitable consequence of such a state of tutelage, the 
French commissary-general seized on all the stores and treasures belonging to the public 
throughout Switzerland ; and although some spirited remonstrances against this rapine 
were made by the legislative body, no redress could be obtained. 

A general diet assembled at Berne, in September, 1801, and after a successful contest 
on the part of the democratical cantons, who claimed their ancient libertj^, a new govern- 
ment was organised on the plan of the original confederacy, which provisionally appointed 
a senate and executive council. Yarious changes, however, subsequently arose ; and, at 
length, a constitution was adopted which gave ec[ual political rights to every one of 
the citizens of Berne. 

The tourist who approaches Berne by the road from Morat, will be struck by the 
magnificent scene which suddenly bursts on his view as he -winds round the amphitheatre 
of verdant hills, enlivened, perhaps, with the song of birds. From the Oberthor, the 
city, spread out like a map, displays a singularly varied, rich, and animated picture. 
On the right, the blue and rapid waters of the Aar approach, pass, and depart from the 
city, to the beauty and prosperity of which they so essentially contribute. Ilich 
meadows, rising gently into green acclivities on the left, fade into the horizon. The 
intervening foliage veils part of the town, but the busy street of the Kramgats may be 
traced to its full extent, while its varied sounds strike upon the ear. 

The city is situate on rising ground above the Aar, which, after issuing from the 
glacier of the same name, and flowing down from the heights of the Grimsel, through 
the romantic valleys of Upper and Lower Hasli and the lakes of Brienz and Thun, and 
receiving additions to its volume from innimierable torrents and streams running in from 
all sides, has by this time become a river of considerable size and power. The houses that 
are built on the edge of the cliff, completely overhanging the river, are very handsome, 
though somewhat antique, and belong to the old Bernese noblesse. 

Of all the pv-blic buildings, the cathedral is the most remarkable. It was built by the 
same architect who reared that of Strasburg, of such wide fame, and though somewhat like 
it, has, instead of its towering sjjire, a square tower, with no pretensions to beauty. It 



392 swiTZKHiAiVn. 

is built in the Gothic style, and is a hundred and sist^y feet long, and eighty broad. 
Over the entrance is an antique bas-rclicf, representing the Last Judgment. In the 
windows there are also fine glass paintings. A great number of banners, taken from the 
field of battle, once adorned its nave, but they have disappeared. The only relics of 
them are some faded escutcheons of the ancient burgesses. Two monuments may be 
observed : one to the duke of Ziiringen, the founder of the city ; the other to the 
Avoyer, Steiguer. Six marble tablets are around the latter, encrusted on the wall, com- 
memorating the names of eighteen ofhcers, and six hundred and forty-three soldiers, who 
fell in conflict with the French in the campaign of 1798. On the tower of the cathedral 
there is a watchman day and night throughout the year, to strike the hours and give 
alarm in case of fire. 

Near the cathedral is the Platforia, a long terrace a hundred and eight feet above 
the river Aar, adorned with noble chesnut trees, and a statue of the founder of the city, 
and is one of the finest walks in Switzerland. Here, too, are seats for the rest and 
pleasure of the visitors. On the south the platform ends in a precipice one hundred and 
eight feet in depth, and is occupied bj' the liouses of the old town. A marble slab near 
it records a remarkable escape. In 1654, Theobald Weinziipfli, a student of Berne, 
mounted on a restive horse, was precipitated from the platform into the lower to^vn. He 
suffered the fracture of a leg and an arm, but was a preacher for thirty years after. 

The aspect of the city is peculiar. The liouses in the principal streets are built of 
stone, with colonnades, so that as you walk along the pavement you are sheltered from 
the sun or rain. The streets ai-e kept clean by running streams in the middle of them, 
and fountains, with curious devices, occurring at regular intervals of one or two hundi'ed 
yards, serve to supply the people with abundance of pure mountain water. There does 
not seem to be much traffic with coaches and carts, and hence washing, wood-splitting, 
and various other operations are carried on in the middle of the road. In the principal 
street are three unique watch-towers ; one is used as a pi-ison ; another is the Giant's 
Tower, so called from the figure of an immense giaiit with which it is adorned; 
and the third is the one having a curious clock, which not only notes the hour, the day 
of the month, and the year, but various other matters connected with the motions of 
the sun and moon. When the quarters and hours strike, several figures perform their 
parts. Time, a venerable old man, sighs, tui'ns his hour-glass, and raises his sceptre ; 
a lion dressed up wags his head, a cock crows and flaps his vinngs, some bears march out 
and round a pillar, and a tall figure of a man strikes the hours on a large bell. Notice 
is given of the performance a minute or two beforehand, by the figure of a merry -andrew 
which strikes two bells. 

The Museum contains several models of the Alps, and a fine collection of minerals and 
fossils, principally obtained from the St. Gothard range ; stuffed animals and birds found 
in the coimtry, such as the steinbock, chamois, and lammergeyer, and the Great St. Ber- 
nard dog, Barry, which is said to have saved the lives of fifteen persons. There are also 
some Eoman relics, and the prie-dieu of Charles le Temeraire, studded with precious 
stones in their rough state ; a model of the Bastille, and some vases from Pompeii. 

The public library contains a large number of books and manuscripts. The cabinet of 
medals is particularly rich in ancient coins, chiefly found in the Swiss territory, among 
the ruins of Aventicum and other cities. 

A delightful promenade will bo found on the bastions which flank the fortifications on 
the south. One of them is planted in imitation of an English garden. Here the eye 
may again dwell on the Wetterhorn, the Schreckhorn, the Finsteraarhorn, the Jungfrau, 
other sublime elevations. The other bastion is frequently the scene of public 
Here the peasants of the Oberland Avere once accustomed to assemble 
annually for their feats of physical strength. 




THE RETURN OF THE SWISS SOLDIER, 



394 SWITZEBLAJSTD. 

The Enghi, in the environs, presents a view whicli slionld be visited again and again. 
Amidst the shado'ivs of twilight the mountains assume their ethereal bkie, while the 
brightness of their snowy summits fade ; but suddenly the rays of the departing stin 
cast over them a rosy effulgence, soon in its turn to disappear and to leave the mountain 
snows pale and cold. 

The population of the canton of Berne is chiefly protestant, of the Helvetic confession 
of faith, which was drawn up hj Zwinglo and BuUinger. Since the beginning of the 
present century the department of public instruction has been improved. Elementary 
schools are scattered through the canton, but the renumeration of the masters is very 
scanty. The secondary instruction is given in gymnasia, of which that of Berne is the 
principal, and is supplied with able professors. A federal military school for the artillery 
and engineers is established at Thun. There is also a cantonal military school for the 
instruction of the officers of the militia. The number of men, from twenty to fifty years 
of age, liable to bs called under arms in case of an invasion, is about 50,000 in the whole 
canton. 

The language of the peojple is the Svnss-Germau, but various dialects prevail in the 
different districts or valleys. The dialect of the Upper Hasli is peculiar, and is said to 
contain, as might be expected from the history of its inhabitants, many Swedish words 
or roots. In some of the valleys French is spoken by the people in general. 

The character of the Bernese peasantry is steady, serious, and slow ; but when excited, 
they are prone to violent fits of passion. Hospitality, refinement, and politeness, mark 
the educated people of the towns. Many combine the character of the Germans and the 
French. The general tone of manners, muck impi'oved of late years, is orderly and 
domestic. The Bernese peasantry are generally healthy and robust ; the women in some 
of the valleys arc remarkably handsome. 

The character of the Swiss costume has often been greatly exaggerated. The females 
generally seen in country parts arc attired in jacket and petticoat, of a plain woollen 
material, and either blue or brown ; while the coat and trowsers of the men are equally 
humble. On Sundays and holidays, however, the former have a peculi.ir costume, the 
principal part of which is apparentlj'- made at home, and only the special decorations 
matters of purchase. The traveller oh the continent will often be struck by the head- 
gear o'f the women, and particularly by the quantity of ribbons included in it in many 
parts of Germany. To these are added, by those of Berne in full ccstume, a rich broad 
black lace ; the neck being adorned bj'' a black velvet lappet, loosely held down by a steel 
chain, and passing rmder each arm from the back to the bosom. 

On the road to Aarberg, just outside the city, is the den of the bears, the descendants 
of the last of these quadrupeds caught iir the mountains. It has an addition to those 
witli which we are familar in our Zoological Gardens, in a fountain so contrived 
as to fill a basin, that Bruin may refresh himself in a bath. A pine-tree stem, 
annually rene-\ved, is an ascent he often makes, to be regaled with cakes, like the 
bears arc in our own collections, or in the Jai'din des Plantes. It would appear 
from an account given by Murray, that the bears "have seen better days." "At the 
beginning of the last century," he saj^s, " an old lady, dying Avithout near relations, 
bequeathed her fortune of 60,000 livres to them. The will was disputed by some 
distant connexion of the deceased ; but the cause of the brutes was so ably pleaded 
by one of the m.ost distinguished members of the bar of Berne, that the plaintiff was 
nonsuited. The bears, declared the rightful heirs, were taken xmder the guardianship of 
the supreme council, who, treating them as wards in chancery, or minors, administered 
their property. In order to maintain their succession to the estate, a pair of yoimg bears 
was always reared, in case of the demise of the elders; and to prevent too large an 
increase of the race, all that were born beyond this were fattened to furnish a dainty for 



ALBERT VON UAJJJER. 



the civic feasts of tlie Berne burgomasters. The bears, however, did not long enjoy the 
future. The French revokition broke out, and its sweeping conseqiiences, not confined to 
crowns and kingdoms, descended even to bears. The French army having defeated the 
Swiss in several engagements, entered the to^Ti, and immediately took possession of the 
treasury. Eleven mules were despatched to Paris laden with specie found in it ; two of 
them bore away the birth-right of the bears, amounting at the time to about two millions 
of francs. The bears themselves were led away captives, and deposited in the Jardin des 
Plantes, where one of them, the celebrated Martin, soon became the favourite of the 
Fi'ench metropolis. When, after a series of years, the ancient order of things was restored 
at Berne, one of the first cares of the citizens was to replace and provide for their ancient 
pensioners. A subscription was raised in consequence, and a small estate purchased, the 
rents of which, though diminished from various causes, are appropriated to their support. 
The cost of keeping them amounts to between 600 and 700 francs per annum; and well 
grounded fears are entertained, that modern legislators, forgetful of the ser^dces rendered 
by Bruin for so many centuries, in figuring upon the shield of the canton, may soon 
strike him off the pension list." 

It may excite surprise that so much treasure should be readj^ as a spoil to the French. 
But Avhen we find people in our own country, and some of them still remain, who keep 
the careful acciunulations of successive years of small, yet prosperous, trading in their 
own dwellings, we cannot wonder that the same practice was pursued in Berne. So 
ignorant were the people there of the value of interest, and even compound interest, or 
so regardless of such a maxim as " nothing venture, nothing have," that tliey univer- 
sally added their gains from time to time to the existing store of hard coin, which was 
deposited in a strong box. Each dwelling, therefore, instead of having its mortgage 
deeds, notes of hand, or equivalent securities, had, in some quiet corner, its domestic 
treasury, which the French did not fail to discover ; and so great was their success, that, 
it is said, they carried away from Switzerland no less than a hundred and twenty 
millions of francs. 

It might be supposed that so large and so easy a prey would lead to measures being 
taken effectually to prevent the recurrence of any such loss. Yet it was not ; for when, 
about thirty years after, Berne imderwent a revolution, the democratic party exulted 
over a prize of maiw millions of francs, stored up in the iron-chest. Happily, however, 
it was appropriated to public purposes. 

Among the celebrities of Berne, iUbert Von Haller is entitled to pecidiar prominence. 
Feeble and delicate in childhood, he is said, at the age of nine, to have been in the habit 
of writing down evorj^ daj' all the unusual words he met with. He composed also short 
lives of nearly two thousand distinguished persons, after the manner of Bayle's dic- 
tionarj'-, and formed a Chaldee grammar. A satire in Latin verse, upon his master, was 
known to have been composed by him v/hen only ten years of age ; and when two years 
older, he began to compose verses in his native language. 

His subsequent progress did not fail to realise the promise of distinction so early 
given. It woidd be difiicult to determine how large a portion of the facts of medical 
science, now most familiarly known, are to be traced to the extraordinary labours of 
Haller. Some idea of the extent of his works may be formed from the fact, that the 
titles of nearly two hundred treatises, published by him from 1727 to 1777, are given by 
Senebior in his " Eloge of Haller," and that this Kst does not profess to be complete. He 
is imanimously received as the father of modern physiology, whose history commences 
■^dth his writings. 

Unlike many distinguished men, he received ihe high honours he so richly deserved 
dm-ing his life. He was appointed physician to the king of England ; he was elected a 
feUow of the Royal Society of London ; and, at different times subsequently, of all the 



SWITZERL.-i.ND. 



scientific societies of Europe. He enjoyed the friendship and esteem of the most eminent 
of his contemporaries ; and, varied as his pursuits were, he acquitted himself in them all 
with the highest honour and success. Few writers have ever heen so voluminous ; 
and it is extraordinary that, amidst all his personal and laborious investigations, he 
should have found opportunity to compose so extensive a library as his works would 
form. 

A few miles from Berne, is Hofwyl, a situation of great salubrity and beauty, from 
various parts of which are seen the ridgy peaks of the Bernese Alps — ^long deservedly 
an object of great interest, in connexion with M. de Fellenberg, who was born in the 
canton of Berne, in the year 1771. "While still a young man he felt fully persuaded of 
the great desirableness of a reform in the education of the people, in whose welfare he took 
the liveliest interest. He, therefore, travelled all over Switzerland, the Tyrol, and Germany, 
on foot ; residing in the villages and farm-houses, mingling in the labours and listening 
to the sentiments of their inhabitants, and musing assiduously on the means best 
adapted to promote their advantage. On the invasion of Switzerland by the French, he 
took an active part in opposing them, was, in consequence proscribed, and fled to Germany. 
He was soon after recalled to his native country, and employed in a political mission 
to the French direetor}^; but, becoming disgusted with diplomacy, he resigned his office. 
He then filled a public station at home, but afterwards determined to form on his own 
estate at Hofwyl, and at his own cost, an educational institution. 

Accordingljr he purchased and added to his establishment two hundred acres of land, 
and his first efibrt was to form an agricultural school for the destitute children of the 
canton. He then added to this a school for youths, from the higher orders of the 
community. And afterwards he opened an intermediate school for boys, chiefly the sons 
of farmers who were able to incur a small cost for board. In these measures, the result of 
thought and deliberation, we have the rise of the educational establishment which has 
now been in operation for about fifty years. 

It is no imusual thing for the plans of an ardent, though sagacious philanthropist not 
to be fully realised ; and there is reason to believe that the experience of M. de Fellenberg 
has not accorded with his early expectations His failure has arisen, to some extent, from 
the circumstances of the people for whom he has laboured, at which we have looked, in 
traversing the country, again and again. The majority of the Swiss are industrious, 
laborious, peasant-farmers, and as their fathers were, so are their descendants at the 
present day. It is a part of the domestic constitution that the children shall contribute 
to the subsistence of the rest. The child that has not muscle and sinew enough to ply 
the spade can tend the goats; and from the earliest ability to labour a contribution is 
exacted no less than from those who possess it to a larger extent, and can yield an ampler 
return. When, therefore, M. de Fellenberg went to the farm with the offer to educate its 
children, it at once took the form of the withdrawal of profitable service. The worth of 
the labour of the child stood in the way of its intellectual and moral training. A certain 
loss was to be incurred for the sake of a problematical advantage. In many instances, 
therefore, the proposal was declined, and not unfrequently with the idea that it was 
suggested by selfishness rather than benevolence — selfishness anxious to divert to its own 
purposes the labour it withdrew from others. But it was not always so : the humbler part 
of the institution has been the least successful, yet in the course of its operations it has 
sent out into the world no inconsiderable number of young persons to practise agriculture 
with far more intelligence and skill than had previously been displayed. The institution, 
still carrying forward its plans for their increase, contains an establishment for the 
education of young persons, who avail themselves of its advantages from all parts of 
Europe. 

The visitor finds tho lofty edifices at Hofwyl have been orderly arranged, occupying as 



HOFWYL. 397 

they do, the most elevated part of the estate, while the fields show how well they are 
managed. Entering a play-ground, the largest building — the residence of M. de 
Fellenberg's family, and the higher class of pupils — appears on the right, and also some 
of the class-rooms of the establishment. A house of plainer appearance, across the play- 
ground, has on the ground-floor a museum and storehouse of various implements, and 
above a shop for the practice of the art of cabinet-making. Various other arrangements 
will now be observable, as those for the residence of the humbler classes of the inmates, 
and all that is required for the dairy and the farm. 

At this establishment the course is annually pursued, which is taken in other continental 
schools. In the month of August a trusty master takes charge of a certain number of 
pupils for a "Voyage en Zigzag." Each one is provided with a knapsack, and thus 
accoutred, they proceed for several weeks, climbing the mountains, scouring the valleys, 
and tracking the rivers of the country, accordrag to a plan previously marked out, which 
also includes, perhaps, a glimpse of other lands. The advantage of the acquaintance thus 
attainable with natural phenomena and with objects of historical interest is at once 
apparent, and naturally excites the desire that it could be more generally available. 



CHAPTEE XXVIII. 

BAiE — SOLEURB — AAKAU TI-IE TOWN AND FALLS OP SCHAFFHAUSBN. 

Eakly in the morning we mounted the "belvedere" at the top of our hotel, and caught 
a glimpse of the snowy Alps, bathed in the roseate brilHancy of the rising sun. But 
soon, too soon, the diligence was waiting, and we were speedily mounting the rising 
ground beyond the city ; the greater part of the mighty range of mountains being visible, 
as the sky was pierced with many a rugged and towering peak. The road lay amidst a 
well-cultiA'-ated country, with its corn-fields nearly " white unto theharvest,"andits fruit- 
trees laden with their pi'oduce. As the Alps were behind, the Jura mountains were in 
front, the eminences of which we were soon to cross, while through some of their valleys 
we were about to wend our way. 

Bienne, the only town of any note on the road, is situated at the head of the lake of 
the same name at the foot of the Jura range, and at the mouth of the valley of the Suze. 
It is of great antiquity ; prior to 1798 it was an independent city, but in that year it 
was vmited to France, and in 1815 to the canton of Berne. It has a public library, 
which was plundered at the revolution. It has a good gymnasiiun, with several professors. 
The lake is about ten miles long and three broad, and though its banks exhibit much 
quiet beauty, they ha^-e no characteristics that awaken strong emotion. JSTear the end of 
the lake of Bienne, and only separated from it by a narrow strip of land, is the far more 
celebrated lake of ISTeuchatel. Soon after quitting Bienne the road begins very rapidly 
to ascend the sides of the mountain, which are here covered with vines. 

The range of the Jura consists almost entirely of limestone rocks, but on the summits 
are to be found,, especially in the parts where we were now travelling, masses or boulders 
of granite on the summits and slopes, some of them larger than ordinarily sized houses. 
How came they here, for they form no part of the mountain mass ? This question is still 
a puzzle to geologists. 

Arrived at the summit, a very extensive view is obtained of the covmtry which we have 
just quitted. At j^our feet lie the placid lake? of Bienne and Neuchatel, and stretching 
out on either hand a beautifully undulating country. But grander scenes are yet in 
store. As the Jura range consists of several parallel chains of mountains, you no sooner 
have crossed one chain than joii find another before you. This was the case here ; but 
the road is so managed as to cross the mountains only once, and then to wind amid the 
valleys through openings that occur here and there. Hence the scene is very varied. 
ISToAV you are passing through some verdant valley with its watch-movement factories and 
cheerful luisophisticated villages, now climbing some steep ascent, and then threading 
your way between overhanging well- wooded cliffs, and beside a roaring torrent. The 
most beautiful part of the route, near the town of Delemont, is called the Munsterthal, 
and it was for the sake of it that Ave chose this road, Avhich is not the most direct one 
to Bale. JSTear to Munster is a natural archway, some forty feet high, reaching across the 



THE aVNXON OF JJAIjE. 399 

road. It bears a Latin insGriptiou, supposed to have been given in the time of the 
Jtomans. Not far off are some iron fm'naces and forges, the iron being foimd in little 
led granules. 

The country which forms the canton of Bale, belonged in the times of the Romans to. 
the territory of the RauracL In the middle ages it formed part of the Burgundian empire,-; 
till 1026, when it came into possession of the German emperor, Conrad II. Bale was: 
subsequently governed by an imperial bailiff, but the bishop of Bale shared with the 
citizens in the government. In 1501 it was admitted into the Swiss confederation, and 
it was a republic, managed by an aristocracy of citizens, until a change was produced by 
the invasion of the French. 

The canton of Bale extends about twenty miles in length from north to south, and 
about eighteen in its greatest breadth from west to east. Its climate is temperate and 
salubrious, and the country is delightful. Though moimtaiaous, it has many vaUeys 
and plains extremely fertile and well cultivated, while the varied aspects of the moun- 
tains render the scenery at once grand and beautiful. Many of the smaller hUls are 
covered with vineyards, or clothed to the summits with luxuriant herbage ; beyond which 
its mountains, forming part of the Jura chain, tower aloft in Alpine majestj^, and seem to 
form an inseparable barrier around the country. The Ehine, too, which flows through 
this canton, greatly heightens the sublimity of the scenery. In no part does its course 
fill an ampler channel, or roll its mighty stream ivith so impetuous a rapidity. The 
canton of Bale has a great profusion of comforts, and even of delicacies. Plentiful crops 
of grain, fruits, and grapes, are the products of its genial soil ; a great variety of game 
is found in its forests; while the noble river, which enriches its fields, teems with 
different species of excellent fish. 

A front view of the capital, sloping down the steep bank to the Rhine, which comes as 
a light green flood, rolling from the upper country, may be obtained from the bridge 
across the river. The white houses, with green jalousies, and the spires and singularly- 
shaped edifices in the higher parts of the town, present to the eye a li-^-ely and varied 
scene. The biidge is merely of wood, supported on stone piers; but though it has sus- 
tained many severe shocks from the accumulated and rushing waters of spring, yet there 
it still stands, apparently unharmed. At the further end of the bridge is Little Bale, 
which presents a scene of a far lighter character than the capiital of the canton. 

The valley and the plain near the city are well cultivated, and the country produces 
corn enough for its own consumption. The best wine that is produced is that of St. 
Jacob, called Schurifzerbhit, Swiss blood. Manufactures form the principal employment 
of tte people. So early as the commencement of the seventeenth century, ribbon-maldng 
became an important business in Bale. After the revocation of the edict of JSTantes^ 
great numbers of French emigrants settled in the town, who gave a fresh impulse to the 
manufacture. In addition to ribbons, silk thread, taffetas, and satins, are made on a 
small scale. Pattern-draiightsmen now produce the designs, which were formerly 
brought into Switzerland from France. 

This city presents to the visitor a peculiar mixture of the gaiety of a French, with the 
sombre air of a Grerman town. " It looks," says Beattie, " like a stranger lately arrived 
in a new colony, who, although he may have copied the dress and manner of those with 
whom he has come to reside, wears still too much of his old costmne to pass for a native, 
and too little to be received as a stranger." It is surroimded by some important fortifi- 
cations, and is tolerably well built. 

The great and the little coimcil long exercised the supreme power. Once a j'ear the 
people assembled to receive publicly an oath made by the magistrates, that they v/ould 
maintain the laws in their integrity, and preserve the public rights and immunities 
inviolate. A reciprocal oath of allegiance to the magistrates was taken by the people in 



IWU SWITZEllLyS'I). 

their respective tribes. Nowhere was the conduct of the authorities more strictly 
scrutiaised, or more freely censured, than at Bale. In the exercise of their rio-ht of 
scrutiny, the people have frequently become disorderly and tumultuous, yet tho effects of 
this privilege were, in general, salutary. While it deterred the magistrates from acts 
of injustice, it enlightened the other members of the com.munity as to the laws of which 
they were the vigilant guardians, and fostered in them a spirit of independence which 
was the best security for the integrity of their constitution. 

The mode of electing magistrates and members of the council was sufficiently singular. 
At first the choice was made by a plurality of voices ; but as the intrigues and influence 




CnYPT OF THE CATHEDRAL 



of the more opulent and powerful gave them the ascendancy in every election, it became 
necessary to adopt some other expedient. Three citizens were therefore selected, one of 
whom was chosen by lot to the vacant office. This was called the ternaire. But as even 
this method was not sufficient to counteract the influence of the wealthy, six candidates 
were selected instead of three. Their names, inclosed in silver eggs, were placed in one 
bag, and sis cards, on one of which was inscribed the vacant employment, were put into 
another. The reigning burgomaster and the great tribune drew at once from these two 
bags ; and he was the successful competitor whose name was brought out at the same 
time with the ticket on which the vacant office was inscribed. 




2 D 



402 SWITZERIAND. 

It is natural to suppose tliat many inconveniences must liave resulted from the strange 
practice of supplying the vacant posts in the government by lot. Candidates, whose 
talents and integrity would have secured the decided preference of their countrymen, 
might constantly fail to obtain the successful ticket, which might also, under such cir- 
cumstances, be bestowed on those little qualified for the office to which thej^ aspired. Yet, 
notwithstanding these inconveniences, the government appears generally to have been 
well conducted ; and very few instances occurred of the abuse of civil justice, or of inno- 
"cence being sacrificed to the powerful or the opulent. 

As if genius and intelligence were equally difiused among the literati of Bale, and 
selection were a matter of perfect indiiferenoe, the same mode of election was employed 
in supplying the vacant chairs in the University. The professors were, however, 
extremely accommodatiag to one another, and the reason for their being so is no enigma. 
As it frequently happened that the successful candidates were but little acquainted with 
the sciences they were appointed to teach, they merely exchanged chairs, and thus, so 
far as possible, matters were set to rights. In this case, the fernaire was employed, 
and the three candidates were nominated from those who had taken a doctor's 
degree. 

The cathedral at Bale was built on the spot where the Roman emperor Valentinian 
originally erected the strong fortress called Badlia. It was begun in 1616, by the 
emperor Henri, consecrated in 1619, and reconstructed in 1636. From the choir a staircase 
leads to the council- chamber, a small room with four gothic windows, perfectly preserved 
as it was when the council was held. A wooden bench, attached to the wall and covered 
with a tick cushion, surrounds it. Two water- clocks, which served the prelates at 
their variou* sittings as time-pieces, are still fastened to the wall. A strange 
practice once prevailed in regulating the clocks of Bale, which Avere always exactly 
an hour faster than the real time of the day. The origin of this peculiarity was even 
xmknown to the natives, yet they seemed to think that, in some manner, it reflected 
upon them a peculiar honour, for every proposal to regulate the clocks by a- sun-dial 
was long opposed with the utmost violence. At length, however, this singular feeling 
subsided, and their consent was obtained to a change by which the clocks no longer out- 
stripped the sun. 

On the outside may be noticed the portal of St. Grallus, decorated with statues of Christ 
and St. Peter, and those of the wise and foolish virgins. The front, also, has some sin- 
gvilar sculptures. But the real riches of the church, its finest ornament, its chief his- 
torical title, are the tombs, epitaphs, and inscriptions of all sorts which fill the choir and 
other parts of the edifice. 

Among the tombs may b.e seen those of the Empress Anne, wife of the Emperor 
Eodolph of Hapsburg ; of Prince Charles, one of her sons ; of Arnold of Pothby, bishop of 
Bale ; and of several savants of the sixteenth century. T^Tear the choir, against a pillar, is 
the epitaph of Erasmus on a red marble tablet, on the frieze of which is a Deus Terminus, 
with the words, " Cedo nuUi," which Erasmus had selected in his device. Erasmus was 
exceedingly fond of the city of Bale ; most of his works were printed there, and though 
he was obliged to leave it on account of religious diff'erences, he returned and died there 
in 1536. There is a terrace behind the minster, at a considerable elevation above thej 
river, planted with chestnut trees. Here a delightful vieAV may be enjoyed of the 
Bhine, while the city and the hills of the Black Forest are important objects in the 
scene. 

The university of Bale once cnjoj'cd the services of eminent men, natives of thi 
city. The Public Library contains the "Acts of the Council of Bale," various autographi 
of the Swiss Reformers, and no fewer, it is said, than 50,000 names. A number 
antiquities are open to inspection in the lower library. 



EMINENT MEN OF BALE. 403 

The inhabitants of Bale fall very far short of the capacities of the capital, a fact which 
has been accounted for in two ways. On the one hand, its people, like the rest of the 
Swiss, have always been fond of emigration, and here the number of births has been 
inferior to that of burials. It is evident, therefoi'e, that if the loss of numbers thus 
occasioned be not supplied by a regular succession .of new inhabitants, the population 
must rapidly decrease. But this increase has not arisen. For, on the other hand, the 
people are strongly attached to their own country, and seem to regard it as a terrestrial 
paradise ; and jealous of their rights and privileges as burghers, they very rarely deigned 
to confer them on strangers. Thus others have had no inducement to engage in 
commerce, or to practise any trade in a city where their so doing would have supplied 
the vacancies caused in the population by the death or emigration of the citizens. An 
enlightened and liberal policy might have rendered Bale exceedingly populous and 
flourishing ; most favourably situated as it is for commerce, and enjoying besides many 
internal advantages peculiar to itself. Few places, if any, can boast of a greater number 
of fountains, some of which have their sources within the city, besides the Birs, a stream 
which falls into the Hhine a little above it, and which supplies it by means of a canal, 
particularly well adapted to various purposes of trade. 

The business of Bale appears to be conducted with discretion. While much energy is 
displayed, there is also a careful avoidance of risk. The artisans appear generally in 
comfortable circumstances, as their cottages show, of which they are commonly proprietors, 
Avhile the Saving's Bank contains a large amount of their carefully saved and well-stored 
deposits. Here education is rendered compulsory : the government requiring parents, on 
pain of imprisonment, to send their children, till ten or twelve years old, to school, and 
providing education gratuitously when payment is out of the question. Special 
instruction is given in the arts of design, while there are several academies of a superior 
grade. 

At some of the eminent men of which Bale was the birthplace, we can only hastily 
glance. One of them was Leonard Eulei-, who died suddenly in 1783. In addition to 
the splendid mathematical acquirements for which he was distinguished, he possessed a 
vast mass of miscellaneous learning. He was a strict member of the church of Calvin, 
and filled with great amenity and fidelity every relation of public and private life. 
Li-\'ing in what may be called a transition epoch of mathematical science, no man con- 
tributed more than Euler to bring to perfection the new methods of analysis, 
and to apply them successfully to the various departments of mixed theory and practice. 
The modern mechanics of fluids were almost entirely created by his vigorous and opulent 
intellect. 

James Bernoulli was born at Bale. His name is radiant in the annals of science. His 
works are many, but by far the greater part consists of pieces, dissertations, and treatises 
on all branches of mathematics, on the promotion of the new analysis, infinite series, the 
quadration of the parabola, the geometry of curve lines, of spirals, cycloids, and epicycloids. 
His second brother, John', was a native of the same city, who worked with him to 
discover the method used by Leibnitz in his essays on the difierential calculus, gave the ■ 
first principles of the differential calculus, and, with Huyghens and Leibnitz, was the 
first to give the solution of the problem proposed by his brother, of the catenary — the 
curve formed by a chain, supposing it perfectly flexible everywhere, and suspended by 
both its extremities. John was the father of two sons, Nicholas and Daniel, born at 
Grroningen, who rendered great services to varioiis branches of science ; and of two 
others, born in Bale, equally worthy of so eminent a parentage. 

Another family is associated with Bale, very remarkable, but in a totally difierent 
sphere — this was the family of the Buxtorfs. John Buxtorf, its father, was born at 
Camen, in Westphalia, of which place his father was a Calvinistic minister. He was 

2d 2 



404 SWITZEUWUD. 

edacated at Marburg and Herborn, under Piscator, and afterwards received instructions 
at Bale and GreneYa from G-ryna3us and Theodore Beza. He occupied the Hebrew chair 
at Bale for thirty-eight years of his life, and so attached was he to its university, that 
he declined many advantageous oifers of a similar rank, both at Saumur and at Leyden. 
He maintained a large correspondence with all who were distinguished for their attain- 
ments in Hebrew literature, and lodged and supported in his house many learned Jews, 
with whom he familiarly conversed respecting their language, during his leisure hours. 
Among his valuable works was his Hebrew Bible, in four folio volumes, accompanied 
by the remarks of Rabbinical interpi'eters, Chaldaic paraphrases, and the Massorah. 
To this is generally added the Tiberias, published by his grandson at Bale, in 1665, 
which is a commentary on the Massorah, and contains an explanation of the terms used 
in it according to the interpretations of Elias, the Levite. After his death was likewise 
pubKshed his Chaldee Lexicon ; and in the very year of his decease, his Hebrew 
Concordance. Of the high character which he gained among his contemporaries, the 
best proof is afforded by the testimony of Scaliger, who said that Buxtorf was the only 
person who understood Hebrew thoroughly, and that, despite his own gray beard, he 
would gladly be his scholar. 

John, the son of this justty- celebrated man, was, like his father, famed for his know- 
ledge of Hebrew and other Oriental languages. He was born at Bale. He is best 
known, however, for his defence of his father's notions as to the antiquity of the vowel 
points, which appeared in a treatise in reply to another which had taken the contrary 
side of that question. He published, likewise, a Hebrew, Chaldaic, and Syriac Lexicon 
and Grammar. Other works are alike honourable to his talents and learning; and he 
had partly prepared for the press a collection of the passages in which the Greek 
Septuagint differs from the Hebrew ; but he died before he could bring it out. 

John James Buxtorf, the son of the preceding, also a native of Bale, made such 
progress in his studies, that when he was only eight years old, persons used to visit him 
as an object of wonder. After being a pupil of Hoffman, "VVetstein, and Gernler, he was 
taught Hebrew by his father and the Rabbi Abraham; and then travelled through 
various parts of the continent, and even to England, where he took lessons in Arabic. 
On his way home he passed through Lej^den, and gave some lectures on Hebrew, which 
were well attended ; and afterwards returned to Bale, where he succeeded his father as 
professor of Hebrew. Even with him the current of Oriental literature, which had 
flowed onwards during two generations, did not absolutely cease. His nephew became 
his successor in the Hebrew chair, and unlike himself, whose modesty appears to have 
been extreme, was the author of several treatises. 

To allude to only one more eminent man in this connexion, John, or as he was better 
known by the German name of Hans, Holbein was born at Bale. He studied when 
young under his father, who was a painter, but soon entirely eclipsed the- productions of 
his parent. He was certainly a man of rare talent ; for he painted equally well in oil, in 
water-colours, and in distemjjer, and not only on a large scale, but in miniature, and was, 
besides, well skilled in architecture. His earlier works obtained for him the friendship 
of Erasmus, who endeavoured, but. in vain, to reform his rude manners, his culpable 
partiality for low company, and his habit of drinking to excess. 

It was by the advice of that eminent man that he visited England in 1526, and was 
received with great friendship bj'- Sir Thomas More, in whose house he resided nearly 
three years, while employing his pencil in drawing the portraits of his patron and his 
friends. Some time after. Sir Thomas exhibited the productions of Holbein accidentally 
to Henry VIIL, who was so pleased with them, that he took the painter under his 
immediate patronage, and sent him to draw the picture of the duchess dowager of Milan, 
whom he designed for his foiu'th wife after the death of Jane Seymour. He was 



HANS HOLBEIN. 405 

afterwards employed to paint tte portrait of Aniie of Cleves, which proved too flattering ; 
for the fastidious tastes of Henry were not gratified when he saw the original. So 
sensible was Henry of his merit, that, in defending him from the vengeance of an 
offended nobleman, he said to the artist's persecutor, "I can, when I please, make seven 
lords of seven ploughmen ; but I cannot make one Holbein even of seven lords." The 
favour of the king, and his own extraordinary merit, concurred to bring him into such 
request, that, notwithstanding his indefatigable dilig,-nce and rapid execution, he was so 
fully engaged in painting portraits of the nobility and eminent public characters while 
in England, that he had no leisure for historical works. 

It appears, however, that he adorned the walls of a saloon. in the palace of Whitehall 
with two great historical compositions, representing, after the fashion of the age, the 
triumphs of riches and poverty. He likewise executed large pictures of various public 
transactions, such as Henry VIII. giving a charter to the barber-surgeons, and 
Edward VI. granting a charter for the foundation of Bridewell Hospital. Holbein was 
equally remarkable for the freedom and spirit of his pencil, the lightness of his touch, 
the clearness and brilliancy of his tone, and the exquisite finish of his works. It is a 
singular circumstance, that he alwaj-s painted with his left hand. 

Many of the productions of his genius exist in England ; and there are, doubtless, 
numerous copies of some of his works. In the Florentine collection were the portraits of 
Luther, Sir Thomas More, Richard Southwell, and of Holbein, all painted by this artist. 
The cabinets of the kings of France contained others which were highljr valued. In the 
library of the University of Bale there are several of Holbein's works in the highest 
preservation. A few are preserved which were painted before he was fifteen years old ; 
one of which he drew upon a sign for a writing-master. The portraits of himself, his 
wife, and his childern, in one group, are greatly esteemed. Other pictures of his remain 
in this collection. Erasmus is portrayed by the artist as writing his Commentary on 
Matthew. In the same library is preserved a copj'^ of Erasmus's Eloge de la Folie, which 
he had presented to Holbein, who ornamented the margin of it with verj' interesting 
sketches, executed with a pen. 

The Dance of Death, on the walls of the cemetery of the Dominicans at Bale, were 
not, it is said, painted, as some have supposed them to be, by Holbein. This work is 
ascribed to John Klauber, and was executed at the desire of the council, when the plague 
ravaged that city. These walls were puUed down in 1805. It is probable that Holbein 
took the idea of executing his celebrated pict'ores of the Dance of Death from those 
paintings. So much judgment and imagination did he discover in them, that Rubens 
condescended to study and copy them. Holbeia died in the year 1554, in the fiftj'- 
sixth year of his age. 

The year 1794 was memorable in the annals, not only of the French Republic, but of 
Switzerland. The conquest of Holland determined the wavering policy of Prussia. 
Early in January conferences were publicly opened at Bale, and before the end of the 
month the preliminaries were signed. The king of Prussia was bound by this treaty to 
live on friendly terms wilh the Republic, and not to furnish succour to its enemies. It 
also led him to concede to France the undisturbed enjoyment of its conquests on the left 
bank of the Rhine, leaving the equivalent to be given by Prussia to idterior arrange- 
ment. On the other hand, the French government engaged to withdraw its troops 
from the Prussian possessions on the right bank of the Rhine, and not to treat as 
enemies the states of the empire in which Prussia took an interest. By the secret 
articles the king of Prussia engaged not to undertake any hostile enterprise against 
Holland, or any country occupied by the French troops ; an indemnity was stipulated 
for Prussia, in the event of France extending her borders to the Rhine ; the Republic 
promised not to carry hostilities in the empire beyond a fixed line ; and in case of the 



406 SWITZERLAND. 

Rhine being peimanently fixed on as tlie boundary of France, and including the state 
of Deus-Ponts, the Eepublic engaged to undertake a debt of 1,500,000 rix-doUars, due 
to Prussia by their potentate.* 

This step on the part of Frederick-William was most perilous. " The king of Prussia," 
says Prince Hardenberg, " tired of military operations, rudely awakened from his dreams 
on the plains of Champagne, and deeming a counter-revolution in France impossible, 
said to his ministers : — ' Arrange matters as you like, provided you extricate me from 
the war with France.' By signing the treaty of Bale, he abandoned the house of Orange, 
sacrificed Holland, laid open the empire to Fi'ench invasion, and prepared the ruin of the 
ancient Germanic constitution. Despising the lessons of history, that prince forgot 
that no sooner was the independence of Holland menaced, in the end of the seventeenth 
centurj^, than a league of all the sovereigns of Europe was formed to restrain the 
ambition of Louis XIV. ; while at this time the invasion of the same country, eifected 
under the republican banners, led to a dissolution of the coalition of kings against the 
French revolution. From that moment every throne was stript of the magic halo 
which heretofore had surrounded it. Accident merely prevented the treaty of Bale from 
being followed by a general revolution in Europe. Had Frederick- William been 
animated with the spirit of Frederick the Great, he would have negotiated with the olive 
branch in one hand and the sword in the other ; and, supporting Holland, he would even 
have included it in the line of his military protection. By so doing, he would Jiave 
risen to the rank, not only of the mediator, but the arbiter of Europe, and been enabled 
to aspire to the glorious mission' of balancing the dominion of the seas against con- 
tinental despotism. Whereas, the peace of Bale, concluded in narrow views, and without 
any regard to the common cause, destroyed the personal character of Frederick- William, 
and stript the Prussian monarchy of its glorious reputation. We may add, that if, ten 
j-ears afterwards, Prussia was precipitated in the abyss, it is to be imputed to its blind 
and obstinate adherence to the system of neutrality, which commenced with the treaty of 
Bale. No one felt this more deeply, or expressed it more loudly, than the Prussian 
diplomatist who concluded that pacification." 

The canton caUed Solothurn, but in French Soleure, is boimded on the north by Bale, 
on the east by Aargavi, on the south by Berne, and on the west partly by Berne and 
partly by France. Its shape is extremely irregidar, the boundaries not being marked by 
natm-al limits ; the area is aboiit 270 square miles. It is crossed in the direction from 
south-west to north-east by the Jura, which forms several parallel ridges, and covers the 
greater part of the canton. 

In the thirteenth century Soleure had obtained, imder the last king of Burgundy, the 
right of electing its own magistrates, which was confirmed by the emperor, in whose 
hands remained, among other things, the appointment of the avoyer. The last rights of 
supremacy were mortgaged by Henry VII. to the counts of Bucheck, who held an 
important office imder the chapter of St. Urs, and who ultimately ceded them to the 
town itself The neighbourhood of Soleure and Berne, and their common interests, 
united them in close alliance, and the freedom of both was enjoyed in common by the 
burghers of each. 

In the wars of the fifteenth century, Soleure, like Freyberg, had fought faithfully and 
valiantly for the confederates, and they requested, in 1481, to be admitted as cantons in 
the confederation. Their request was warmly supported by Berne. But it was objected 
to by the moimtaineers of the forest cantons. Jealous of the growing wealth and power 
of the town cantons, they dreaded an increase of their number, lest they shoidd, at last, 
gain the ascendancy over the whole confederation. On their side, the town cantons, 

* Alison. 



KICHOL.V.S VON FLUE. 407 

form of government was aTistocratic, and who held numerous dependent districts 
in tlie country, which they had either conquered or purchased, supported each other in 
their policy, fearing that the example of the democratic institutions of the small cantons 
might some day induce their own subjects to revolt. A conspiracy, which was discovered 
at Lucerne, confirmed the fears of the town cantons. Peter Amstalden, a warrior 
peasant of Entlibuch, a district stibject to Lucerne, had suffered grievances from the 
bailiff sent bj^ that state, and he resolved, with his friends, and some men from TJnter- 
walden, to destroy the government of Lucerne itself. On the day of St. Leodegar, the 
conspirators were to seize and kiU. the avoyer, the members of the council, and a hundred 
more of the principal families ; the walls and towns of Lucerne were to be rased, so as to 
leave it an open town, and the Entilbuch was to become an independent republic. Some 
incautious expressions of Amstalden disclosed the plot. He was tried, confessed all, and 
was beheaded. 

A general congress was convoked at Stanz, in the TJnterwalden, in 1481, to regulate, 
among other things, the fair distribution of the Burgimdian plunder, and to decide on 
the admission of Soleure and Freyberg. The deputies of the forest cantons broke out in 
violent upbraidings and threatening against the towns ; the latter, and Lucerne in par- 
ticidar, complained bitterly of the encouragement given by the forest cantons to the dissa- 
tisfied peasantry. From recriminations the deputies were on the point of coming to 
blows. The confederation was threatened with dissolution. But this was averted by a 
remarkable incident. 

At that time, there Kved in the soKtudes of Obwalden a hermit, known by the name of 
Nicholas Von Flue, from a rock which stood near his dwelling. He had fought in his 
youth, and had become conspicuous alilce for bravery and humanity. E-eturning home, 
disgusted with Avorldly things, he determined on a different course. Taking leave one 
day of his assembled relations, and embracing his wife, by whom he had had ten 
children, he left her the whole of the patrimonial estate, and assuming the coarse 
garb of a hermit, he took up his lonely abode in a mountain cell. Once a month only 
was he seen, when he went to receive the sacrament at church. In this way he lived for 
many years, and attained, among the forest cantons, a high reuptation for sanctity. 

On hearing the report of the fatal discord that had arisen among the confederations, 
and with the heart of a citizen once more throbbing in his bosom, he quitted his solitude, 
and, repairing to Stanz, suddenly appeared in the hall where the angry confederates 
were assem.bled. His tall, emaciated frame, his wild and pale, yet handsome coun- 
tenance, beaming with benevolence, struck them with awe. All instinctively rose at his 
entrance. On his lips were words of amity ; and with great energy and ardour did he 
entreat them, in the name of God, who had so often granted victory to the generous 
efibrts of their fathers and forefathers, when fighting in a just cause, and who had blessed 
their independence, not to incur the Divine displeasure. He conjured them not now to 
risk all the blessings they enjoyed by a vile covetousness, or a mad ambition, nor to let 
the report of intestine broils stain tlie fair fame of the confederation. " You towns," he 
added, "renoimce partial alliances among yourselves, which excite the suspicion and 
jealousy of your elder confederates ; and you people of the Waldstalten, remember the 
days in which Soleure and Freyberg fought by your side, and receive them into your 
common band of alliance. Confederates all, do not widen too much the hedge that 
encloses you ; do not mix in foreign quarrels ; do not listen to intrigues, or accept the 
price of bribery and treachery against your common land." This simple and powerful 
appeal made a deep impression on the assembly ; in one hour all their differences were 
settled, and Soleure and Freyberg were received into the Swiss confederation. 

Tlje principal valley of the canton is that of Aar, which flows eastward of the Jura. 
The highest summits of the Jura in the canton are the Weissenstein and the Hasemnath, 



408 S^MTZERLAND. 

which latter is about 4,400 feet above the sea. The canton of Soleure is one of the most 
productive in Switzerland, especially in corn, fruit, and vegetables. The vine thrives 
only in certain localities. The mulberry-tree is cultivated, and some silk is made. The 
horse-fair of Soleure is one of the priacipal in Switzerland. A considerable quantity of 
cheese is made, both from cows' milk and goats' milk, and part of it is exported. A part 
of the mountains is covered with timber-trees, particularly fir and beech. Iron mines 
abound in the canton, and the ore is melted in the fm-naces of St. Joseph, and worked at 
the iron- works of Klus. The other manufactures consist of leather, paper, woollens, and 
kinchwasser. Quarries also are worked of marble and gypsum. 

The constitution of the canton was for a long time aristocratical, as ia most of the 
Swiss cantons, but a new one was formed in January, 1831, on a more popular system. 
The canton is divided into ten electoral circles, each having its electoral college, which 
names a certain proportion of members to the great council of legislation. The town of 
Soleure returns thirty-four out of the hundred and nine members who compose the great 
council, which is renewed every six years. A little council, chosen from among the 
members of the great council, forms the executive. 

A dialect of the S^\dss-German is the language of the countrj'. The inhabitants are 
Roman Catholics, with the exception of those of the district of Bucheggberg, and a small 
congregation in the town of Soleure, which profess the Helvetic reformed communion. 
Most families are possessed of landed property. Every commime has now an elementary 
school, and a normal school has been established at Soleure. Most of the communes 
have a fund for the relief of their own poor. 

Soleure, the capital, a bishop's see, is nineteen miles north of Berne, and twenty-six 
south of Bale. It is built on both banks of the Aar, 1,320 feet above the sea, and is sur- 
rounded by walls. The cathedral is considered the first church in Switzerland; the 
tower is 190 feet high. The canons of Soleure receive about 2,600 francs a year, and the 
emoluments of the bishops are 10,000 francs. The other remarkable buildings of Soleure 
are the town-house, which is very old, the arsenal, the theatre, the hospital, the former 
church of the Jesuits, and several convents. There is a remarkable fountain in the 
market-place. Soleure has a gymnasium with six professors, a lyceum with three pro- 
fessors, and a faculty of theology divided into three classes. The town library contains 
about 15,000 volumes. Another library belongs to the cathedral, which is said to 
contain many valuable manuscripts ; and there are several others in the to-\yn. Soleure 
has a cabinet of natural historj^, a botanical garden, a society for the natural sciences, a 
medical society, a literary society, a dra,matic society, and a military society. 

The Swiss canton Aargau, or Argovia, has Soleure and Bale on the west. It possesses 
a very considerable extent of fertile land. It is traversed by the Aar, from whence it 
derives its name, and by its important tributaries, the Eeuss and the Limmat. Its 
mountains do not attain any very great height. The country is well cultivated ; the produce 
of wheat and other grain exceeds the consumption ; the vineyards are numerous, but the 
wine is inferior, and there is an abundance of garden and orchard fruit. Manufactures 
have made ia this canton considerable progress. Cottons are woven mostly in the cottages 
of the peasants, or small labouring farmers, and to these may be added silk, linen, and 
straw platting. Especial attention has been paid here to education, as every district of 
one hundred and twenty children must have, at least, one primary and one superior 
school. 

The capital, bears the same name : it is well built, has a gymnasium, a school of art, and 
another for the instruction of teachers, with other institutions. Here, too, manufactures 
are carried on. 

Schafi'hausen is one of the small cantons of Switzerland. The people profess the 
reformed religion. The language of the country is a dialect of the German, resembling 



SCHAPFIIAUSEN. 409 

that of SuaHa. The surface of the canton is hilly, and the soil mostly calcarinous. The 
general slope of the valleys is southwards towards the Rhine, which drains the whole 
country. This canton produces corn, wine, flax, hemp, and fruits, especially cherries. 
Agriculture forms the chief occupation of the people. The climate, compared with other 
parts of Switzerland, is mild. The canton has iron-mines, from which about 30,000 
hundredweight of iron is annually obtained. Most of the ore is smelted in the furnaces 
of Laufen, near the fall of the Rhine. 

The government was formerly like that of the Swiss cantons ; the citizens of the head 
town being the legislators, and the country population subject to them, but the demo- 
cratic principle became established by the new constitution of 1831. By this arrange- 
ment all citizens of twenty years of age became electors. Paupers, bankrupts, and 
criminals were deprived of the franchise. Foreigners purchasing the bourgeoisie, or 
freedom of one of the communes of the canton, became entitled, after five years, to the 
elective franchise. The legislative body, called the great council, consists of seventy- 
eight members. The little council, like it, is renewed every four years. 

Schaffhausen was originally a hamlet for boatmen and a place for imlading goods 
from the lake of Constance by the Rhine, the boats being obliged to stop here on accoimt 
of the falls in the river below the town. Hence its name Scapha. In the eleventh cen- 
tury a large monastery being built in the neighbourhood, a town afterwards grew around 
it, and in the thirteenth century it was walled, and obtained the rank of an imperial 
town. It was long in the possession of the house of Austria, but subsequently recovered 
its independence, allied itself to the Swiss cantons, and was received as a member of the 
confederation. 

For a long period all attempts to build a bridge at Schaffhausen utterly failed. They 
were either constructed on wrong principles, or, apparently right, were too fragile to 
sustain the impetuous rush of the watci's. At length, Grrubenmann, a common carpenter, 
a native of Appenzell, an ingenious but self-taught man, contemplated the construction of 
a new bridge, which was now of great importance. He succeeded in his object, and the 
single arch, having a span of three hundred and forty-two feet, roofed in at top, and 
Avith a carriage-way let into the middle, which he threw across the waters of the Rhine, 
remained for forty years a witness to his skill. And so it would have continued, but it 
was burned down by the French army tinder Oudinot, in the year 1799, at the instant the 
Austrians took possession of Schaffhausen. Three other bridges were constructed in 
Switzerland by this remarkable man and his brother, which have escaped so disastrous a 
fate. 

Schaffhausen now meets the view as built on the side of a hill which slopes to the bank 
of the Rhine, and is about 1,200 feet above the sea. It is surrounded by walls, flanked 
with houses, and has a fort, the vaidts of which are bomb-proof. The streets are very 
low, and most of the houses have an aged appearance, but many are modern and handsome. 
The most remarkable buildings are the cathedral, the church of St. John, the town-house, 
and the arsenal. There is a college, with two professors, a gymnasium, several elementary 
schools, and an orphan asylum. The town library has come into possession of the library 
of John Miiller, the historian of Switzerland. A bridge has re-placed that of Gru- 
benmann. 

The small town of Stein, which is situated at the outlet of the Rhine from the Untersee, 
or lower Lake of Constance, has a handsome bridge over the Rhine and some remarkable 
old buildings. 

The cataract begins about a league above Laufen, where the river, passing over a rocky 
channel, forms a succession of rapids. With a force gradually acquired from its speed, it 
falls first in a broad verdant sheet, and then, "whitening by degrees into foaming 
impetuosity, it bursts at last in three distinct branches over a precipice, upwards of eighty 



410 SWITZERLAND. 

feet in height, and presents the most sublime spectacle in Switzerland. The best moment 
for witnessing this phenomenon in all its grandeur is about sunset in the month of July. 
The volume of water is then at the highest ; and the usual stiUness of the hour, and 
deepening hue of twilight, conspire in a wonderful degree to heighten the effect. Then 
the cataract seems to rush from the sky like an avalanche — filling the air with whirlwinds 
of vapour, and stunning the ear with the thunder of its fall. At that hour the foam is of 
dazzling whiteness ; clouds of drizzling vapour incessantly form and vanish away ; the 
ever-boiling vortex of the basin, into which the vast body of water is precipitated, 
represents a storm in miniature ; the trees, and rocks, and precipices, agitated by the 
continual shock imparted to the atmosphere, and that deep unslackiug roar in which the 
voice of a Stentor seems hushed into a whisper, impart sensations which it is difficult to 
explain, and impossible for any spectator to forget. Should the fuU moon rise as an 
accompaniment upon the scene, the whole becomes changed, magnified and improved, 
under its magic influence ; and every succeeding hour presents the sublime spectacle under 
some new and more imposing aspect. The moment at which, perhaps, the greatest 
niimber of circumstances combine to exhibit the cataract in its unrivalled magnificence, is 
a little after midnight. Then nature seems to have but one voice, to which the hiished 
and solitary ear of man listens in profound awe, while the flashing of the foam clothes 
every surrounding object with meteoric lustre. 

" At sunrise, also, the scene is different, but only in the hues, not in the degree, of its 
magnificence. There — 

■ before tlie verge, 

From side to side beneath tbo glittering- moon, 

An Iris sits, amidst the infernal surge, 

Like Hope upon a death-bed ! 

The isolated rocky piUars, by which the river is divided into a triple fall, seem as 
entirely cut off from all social intercourse with the shores opposite, as if the latter were 
some inaccessible point in the Alps. They are covered with green bushes, and have been 
for some time, colonised with rabbits, Avhich certainly have nothing to fear, ah externa, 
provided supplies last, and popidation does not exceed the territory. These rocks rise to 
a considerable height, and present, severallj^, the appearance of a bold flood-gate, through 
which the river, split into three branches, rushes with inconceivable impetuosity. The 
contrast also is striking ; and, with the shrubs, and plants, and flowers, and the colouring 
already mentioned, they look like arks in the deluge, charged Y\^ith the preservation of 
animal and vegetable life — but a delude whose waters never subside."* 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

CONSTANCE AND ITS IA.KE—.ST. GALL APPENZELL. 

Most delightful is the situation of Constance on the banks of the Rhine, at the point 
where it emerges from the Lake of Constance. This is the largest lake belonging to 
Germany. Its length is aboxit thirty-four miles, its greatest breadth about eight miles 
and a half, its area is about two hundred square miles, and its greatest depth nine 
hundred and sixty-four feet. The Ehine enters the Lake of Constance on the south-east, 
and issues from its nor^h-west extremity at the city of Constance, connecting it with the 
lake called the Unter, or Zeller-see, which contains the fertile island of Reichenau, and 
is sometimes considered part of the Lake of Constance. The banks of the latter are 
mostly flat, or greatly undulating, but distinguished for their fertility. They aboimd 
with corn-fields and orchards, and yield a tolerable wine. The soiith shore especially is 
studded with a picturesque line of ruined castles, and other remains of the middle ages ; 
and both sides are crowded with numerous towns and villages, the principal of which are 
Landau in Bavaria, Miersburg and Neberling in Baden, Arbon in Switzerland, and 
Bregenz in the Austrian dominions. The waters of this lake are green, clear, and 
subject to sudden risings, the cause of which has not been satisfactorily explained. 

Coxe says in one of his letters, "I am writing on board the vessel; and I have been 
for some time in vain attempting to distinguish, what some travellers have aiErmed to be 
discernible, the waters of the Rhine from those of the lake ; though, indeed, I was 
before almost convinced of the impossibility. For the river in its coui'se from the 
superior lake, being exactly of the same beautiful greenish colour as the inferior lake 
into which it flows, it is evident that the one can never be distinguished from the other. 
Probabty upon its first entrance into the superior lake it is troubled, and, consequently, 
for some way its current may easily be traced ; but it purifies by degrees, and becomes 
an indistinct part of the great body of water. 

" This lake, like all the other lakes of Switzerland, is considerably deeper in summer 
than in winter — a circumstance owing to the first melting of the snow from the neigh- 
bouring mountains. Yesterdaj^ evening, in an expedition to Meinau, there was scarcely 
a breeze stirring, and the lake was as smooth as crystal ; a brisk gale has now raised a 
fine curl upon the surface, and the surrounding landscape forms an assemblage of the 
most beautiful objects. In short, the several views which present themselves are so truly 
enchanting, as to make me regret every moment that my eyes are called ofi' from the 
delightful scene." 

The great trout which abounds in the Lake of Constance, and generally in the Swiss 
lakes, is the one called in the neighbourhood lUanldn, and by Linneeus Sahno lacustris. 
The head is conical, and larger in proportion than that of a salmon. The dorsal fin has 
twelve rays, the pectoral fourteen, and the other two, twelve each. The imder jaw in 
full-grown fish ends iu a blimt hook. The coloui-, as low as the lateral line, is of a 
deep blue, brightening as it approaches the line ; beneath that of a silvery- white ; all 



412 SWITZEUIAND. 

the upper part is spotted irregularly with black. This kind grows to the weight of forty 
or forty-five pounds. 

These fishes quit the deeps of the lake in April, and go up the Rhine to deposit their 
spawn. The inhabitants of the shores form iceirs across the river, in which they take 
them in their passage. They are also caught in nets. The fishing lasts from May to 
September ; the fishermen, avoid taking any on their return, as they are then very lean 
and quite exhausted. In spring and summer their flesh is of a fine red, and very 
delicate ; but after they have spawned, it turns white and becomes very indifferent. 
They feed on fish, worms, and insects, and are particularly destructive to the gray 
lings. Their great enemy is the pike, which will attack an illankin four times as large 
as itself. 

Constance is one of the oldest cities in Grermany, and highly interesting from its 
historical associations. When formerly in alliance with Zurich and Bale, and supported 
by those cantons, it expelled its bishop, and embraced the doctrines of the Reformation. 
But the Protestant cantons being worsted in 1351, and the league of Smalcalde, of which 
Constance was a member, being defeated by Charles V., the city was obliged to submit 
to the emperor. It was afterwards attached to the Austrian dominions, and in 1805 to 
those of the grand duchy of Baden. 

Constance is fortified by a wall flanked with towers, and surrounded by a ditch. The 
cathedral, begun in 1052, is a handsome Gothic structure, -with a lofty steeple, commanding 
an extensive view of the lake and country as far as the mountains of Voralberg and the 
Grisons. The doors of the main portal are curiously carved ; and the choir is supported 
by sixteen pillars, each formed of a single block. The splendour of the high altar, and 
several of the tombs, attest the ancient wealth and grandeur of the see, which was 
formerly the most considerable in Germany, and had large possessions in, and jurisdiction 
over, Switzerland. 

The haiifhaus, or market-hall, erected in 1388, is interesting as being the place of 
meeting of the Council of Constance, held from 1414 to 1418, to which an allusion has 
already been made. So great was the concourse of ecclesiastics and others from all parts 
of Christendom on this occasion, that not only the houses in the city were crowded, but 
booths were erected in the streets, while thousands of pilgrims were encamped in the 
adjacent fields. Religioiis processions, dramatic representations, and entertainments of 
every description, hourly succeeded each other ; and thousands of individuals were 
employed solely in transporting thither the choicest delicacies of Europe. 

To some of its proceedings we must now refer more particularly. It is stated by Fox, 
the martyrologist, that two Bohemians, who attended Queen Anne, first introduced the 
works of WyclifFe to some of their countrymen. Count Valerian Krasinski confirms this 
assertion from the History of Poland. One result was very remarkable. A native of 
Bohemia, named John Huss, secured for himself distinction in the University of Prague, 
to which the learned resorted from all parts of Europe. It acknowledged that " from 
his infancv he was of such excellent morals, that during his stay here we may A'enture 
to challenge any one to produce a single fault against him." Subsequently apjoointed 
minister of the chapel in that city, he entered on his work with zeal, but the opportimity 
he now obtained of perusing the writings of Wyclifie he was accustomed to describe as 
the happiest circumstance of his life. Not only in the pulpit, but in the schools, he 
inveighed against the enormous evils that prevailed, and, in consequence of the notorious 
corruption of the clergy, excited considerable attention. His disciples soon became 
numerous, and he was followed by many members of the university. 

In 1398, he was selected by Queen Sophia, of Bavaria, the wife of King Wenceslaus, 
as her confessor. As the monarch had been degraded from the imperial dignity, he 
tolerated the movement that now arose, as distasteful to his enemies, while his queen 



THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCB. 413 

gave it all the aid she could render. As the mind of Huss obtained increased light, he 
exposed existing evils more boldly and zealously ; and not only were the students and 
citizens eager to listen to his voice, but the nobility and the court crowded to hear a man 
whose name resounded throughout the German empire. 

A new impulse was thus given to the moral power already in operation. The works of 
Wycliffe were translated into the Sclavonian tongue, and read attentively throughout 
Bohemia. Aware of this, Alexander V., as soon as he was seated on the papal chair, 
issued a bull, commanding the archbishop of Prague to collect the writings of the 
reformer, and seize and imprison his adherents. The same spirit was displayed by the 
succeeding pope, John XXIII. ; and after various appeals, Huss was excommunicated, 
with all his friends and followers. 

The persecution he endured increased his popularity, and multitudes of all ranks 
espoused his cause. Prohibited, therefore, from preaching, he laboured assiduously in 
private instruction, and thus cast around with a liberal hand the vital seeds of Divine' 
truth. Other means against him were now tried, but they could neither impair his 
energy nor chill his ardour, and his own writings, like those of his father in the faith, 
became numerous, both as letters and discourses. 

At length some restrictions were removed, the Hussites were permitted to continue 
their sermons, and the reformer left his retirement and returned to Prague. He now 
declaimed against the bulls of the pope, who directed a crusade against the king of 
Naples, and offered certain benefits to all who engaged in the enterprise. As the people 
favoured the opinions of Huss, they were imprisoned and persecuted ; a massacre also 
ensued, but through the whole Huss exhibited a spirit truly Christian. 

Eeturuing to his native place, he was protected by the principal persons of the comitry. 
Some of the most distressed repaired to him to obtaia his advice. In his retreat he 
published several of his treatises, which, etciting much opposition, he promptly and 
vigorously defended. On his subsequent removal to Prague, he engaged in other labours. 
Fully did he obey the charge, " Be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work 
of the Lord." 

The ecclesiastical assembly at Constance engaged in various acts. Thus the}'- ordered 
the remains of Wycliffe to be dug up, and cast forth from consecrated groimd. Some 
years, however, elapsed before this was done. At length, by the command of the pope, 
his bones were burned to ashes, and these were scattered in the neighbouring stream. 
But, though Wycliffe was dead, truth retained its vitality, and was afterwards widely 
diffused. As Fuller says, " The Swift conveyed his ashes to the Avon, the Avon into the 
Severn, the Severn into the narrow seas, and they wafted them into the main ocean ; and 
thus the ashes of Wycliffe are the emblem of his doctrine, which is now being diffused 
throughout the earth." 

As, too, the rage of the council was hurled against Huss and his followers, he travelled 
to Constance, resolving to defend the principles he had avowed. During a journey of 
three weeks, he was received by the people with warm acclamations. On his arrival, he 
was immediately examined before the pope and the cardinals, and though assured by the 
pope of his liberty, he was suddenly seized by a party of guards in the gallery of the 
coimcil. The pontiff, on witnessing so perfidious an act, could only say, " It was that of 
the cardinals." 

A prison was now found for Huss in a lonely Franciscan monastery on the banks of 
the Rhine. During his long confinement, he composed some interesting tracts. Even 
members of the Romish church generously interceded for his acquittal, but in vain. At 
length his trial took place ; he was advised to abjure his books and recant, and on his 
steadfast refusal, the order was issued that he should be degraded fi-om the priesthood, 
that his books shoidd be publicly burned, and that he should be deKvered over to the 



414 SWITZEKIAND. 

secular power. Witt perfect serenity he heard the sentence. One petition that he 
immediately presented was a supplication for his enemies. 

They proceeded then to the execution of the sentence ; and first they degi'aded him 
from his office as a priest. For this purpose, the archbishop of Milan, and six other 
bishops, led him to a table, on which lay the priestly habits, with which they invested 
him, as if he were about to perform mass. When the alb, the white surplice, was put on 
him, he said, " My Lord Jesus Christ was also clothed in a white robe by Herod, and 
sent by him to Pilate." As soon as he was fully clad in the priestly vestments, the 
bishops once more exhorted him to save his life by recanting his errors, while yet an 
opportunity was afforded him; but Huss, addressing the people from the scaffold to which 
he had been conducted, cried out, with great emotion, the tears flowing from his eyes, 
" These bishops are exhorting me to retract my errors ! If the only consequence were 
the reproach of man, I might easily be persuaded ; but I am now in the presence of my 
God, and I cannot yield to them without wounding my conscience, and blaspheming my 
Lord, who is iii heaven ; for I have always taught, written, and preached the doctrines 
of which they now accuse me. How could I dare to lift my eyes in heaven, if I were to 
make such a recantation ? How could I ever meet the multitude of persons I have 
instructed, if I should now impeach 'those doctrines which I have taught them, and 
which they have received as eternal truths ? Shall I cause them to stimible by an 
example so base P No, I will not do it ; I will not value my bodjr, which must at all 
events die, more tlian the eveiiasting salvation of those whom I have instructed." On 
this the bishops and all the clergy exclaimed, " Now we see his obstinacy and malice in 
his hei'esy ;" and he was ordered immediately to descend from the scaffold. 

"When he had come doAvn, the bishops commenced the ceremonies of degradation. 
The archbishop of Milan and the bishop of Besancon approached him, and took the cup 
from his hands, saying, " Accm'sed Judas, who has forsaken the council of peace, and 
allied thyseK with the Jews. Behold, we take from thee the cup in which the blood of 
Christ is offered for the salvation of the world ; thou art no longer worthy of it." Huss 
replied with a loud voice, " I place all my hope and confidence in Grod my Saviour. I 
know he wiU never take from me the cup of salvation, but that by his grace I shall 
drink it to-day in his kingdom." The other bishops then came forward, and taking 
from him, one after anothei", some part of the sacerdotal vestments, they each pronounced 
a different malediction. Huss answered, " Most gladly do I endure all this reproach 
for the love of the truth, and the name of my Lord Jesu^ Christ." 

It only now remained to deprive him of the tonsure — a circle from which the hair is 
cut from the crown of the head, and enlarged in size as the person rises in ecclesiastical 
dignity. Here a violent dispute arose among the bishops, whether they should use the 
razor or the scissors for this purpose. Huss could not refrain from turning to the 
emperor, and saying, " Is it not strange, that, cruel as they all are, they cannot agree as 
to the mode of exercising their cruelty ?" After a long debate, they declared for the 
scissors, and with them they cut off the hair in the form of a cross. They also scraped 
the nails of his fingers with a knife, to take from him the holy oil, and to erase the 
pretended characters of the priesthood. 

"\^en the ceremony of degradation was finished, the bishops cried out, " The holy 
council of Constance expels John Huss from the priesthood, and the sacred office with 
which he was invested, and thus declares that the holy church of God separates herself 
from this man, and delivers him over to the secular power." Before proceeding further, 
however, they put on his head a paper mitre, about two feet high, on which were 
painted three devils, and an inscription in large characters, Heresiarch, " Arch-heretic." 
Huss, on seeing it, comforted himself with these words, " My Lord Jesus bore for me, a 
poor sinner, a much more painful crown of thorns, and even the ignominious death of 



JOHN HUSS. 415 

tlie cross. Therefore, for liis sake, I shall most cheerfully bear this, which is much 
easier." Then the bishops cried aloud, " 'Sow -we deliver up your soul to Satan, and to 
hell." " But I," said Huss, " commit my soul to my gracious Lord Jesus Christ." The 
bishops then turning to the emperor, said, " The holy council of Constance now delivers 
up to judgment, and to the secular arm, John Huss, who no longer sustains any office in 
the church." 

"When he arrived at the place of execution, he fell on his knees, lifted up his eyes to ■ 
heaven, and prayed aloud, in language taken from the 31st and 51st Psalms, repeating 
with great emphasis this verse, " Into thine hand I commend my spirit : thou hast 
redeemed' me, Lord God of truth." While he was at prayer, the paper mitre having 
fallen from his head, he looked at it smiling, on which some of the guards around him 
said, " Put it on again ; let him be burned with the devils, the masters he has served." 
Huss began to pray again, "Lord Jesus, I cheerfuUj^ suffer this terrible and cruel 
death, for the sake of thy holy gospel, and the preaching of thy sacred word ; do thou 
forgive my enemies the crime they are committing." On this the executioners, by order 
of the count palatine, made him cease, and compelled him to walk three times roimd the 
pile. He then requested permission to speak with his jailers ; and when they were come, 
he said, " I thank you, most heartily, my friends, for all the kindness j^ou have shown 
me, for you have behaved to me more as brethren than as keepers. Know also, that my 
trust in my Saviour is unshaken, for whose name I wiUingly suffer this death, being 
assured that I shall be -nath him to-day in paradise." 

The executioners then took him, and bound him to a stake with wet ropes. But as his 
face happened to be turned to the east,- an honom- of which some thought the heretic 
was unworthy, they imbound him, and turned his face towards the west. They after- 
wards fixed round his neck a black, rusty chain, on which he said, smUing, " My dear 
Master and Saviour was bound for my sake, with a harder and heavier chain than this. 
Why should I, a poor sinful creature, be ashamed of thus being bound fos him ?" The 
executioners then began to put the wood in order. They placed some bimdles of light 
wood under his feet, and heaped straw and large wood around him up to his neck. 
Before they set fiLre to the pile, the coimt palatiue and the marshal of the empire, De Pap- 
penheim, exhorted him to recant his doctrines in order to save his life. Huss cried aloud 
from the pUe, " I call God to witness, that I have never taught the errors which my 
enemies falsely lay to my charge ; I have, in all my discourses, aimed at nothing but to 
deliver men from the bondage of sin : therefore I joyfully confirm, this day, by my 
death, the truth which I have taught and preached." 

The pile was then lighted, but Huss began to sing and to pray aloud several times, in 
these words, " Christ, Son of God,' have mercy on me !" When he afterwards 
endeavoured to speak again, the wind drove the flames into his face, and stopped his 
utterance ; still, however, his head and his lips were observed to move, as if in prayer for 
a short time, when the sufferings of this faithful servant were ended, and the Lord called 
his sold to his eternal rest. The count palatine beings informed that one of the 
executioner's servants had preserved Huss's cloak and girdle, ordered them to be burned, 
with everything belonging to him, fearing lest the Bohemians should venerate them as 
sacred relics. "N^Hien all was consumed, the executioner put the ashes of Huss into a 
cart, with the earth on which he had been executed, and threw the whole into the Rhine, 
which flows near, that every possible trace of this holy witness for the truth might be 
obliterated. But it was said in an elegy, composed at the time, " His ashes will be 
scattered over every country ; no river, no banks will be able to retain them ; and those 
whom the enemy thought to silence by death, sing and publish in every place that 
gospel which their persecutors thought to suppress." 

A sketch of a distinguished lay-reformer, Jerome of Prague, will be foimd strongly to 



416 SWITZERIAXI). 

resemble that just given of lils eminent contemporary. After visiting the university of 
that city, as well as those of England, Paris, Heidelberg, and Cologne, he became 
acquainted, during his residence at Oxford, with the works of "Wycliffe. These he 
translated into his own language, and on his return to Prague avowed the same 
principles, and joined the followers of Huss. During the confinement of the latter, 
Jerome was cited before the council. Finding on his arrival that he could ofPer Huss no 
assistance, he deemed it prudent to retire, and wrote on behalf of his friend to the 
emperor. He was seized at Kirsan by an officer, who apprised the council of his capture, 
and the prisoner was ordered to be sent to Couste. Accused before the assembly, he was 
conveyed to a dungeon, and was afterwards exposed to want and torture. 

A dangerous illness now ensued ; attempts were made to induce him to recant, but for 
a time he was not to be moved. Suffering at length unhappily prevailed ; he acknow- 
ledged the errors of Waldo and Huss, and avowed his adherence to the. church of Rome. 
But his backward course allowed him no repose, and as his own reproaches became 
intolerable, he renounced his retraction, and demanded a second trial. Again brought 
before the council, he valiantly maintained the truth. 

Powerful was his defence, but it failed to affect those to whom it was addressed. Not 
more impervious is the rock to the sunbeams, than were their hearts to the dictates of 
truth and compassion. His martyrdom quickly followed. When surrounded by blazing 
fagots, he cried out, " Lord God, have mercy upon me !" and a little afterwards, 
" Thou knowest that I have loved thy truth." With a cheerful countenance, observing 
the executioner about to set fire to the wood behind his back, he cried out, " Bring thy 
torch hither : perform thy office before my face ; had I feared death, I might have 
avoided it." As the wood began to blaze, he sang a hymn, which the violence of the 
flames did not interrupt. 

The people of Bohemia, not only of hunible but of high rank, who had espoused the 
doctrines of Huss, were greatly excited by his cruel martyrdom. A long memorial 
against it was signed by upwards of a hundred noblemen, and more than a thousand of 
the gentrj^ The whole nation openly declared his innocence ; while such was the attach- 
ment of his numerous friends, that they carried earth from the place of his execution into 
Bohemia. They also commemorated his martyrdom by elegies, medals, and pictures, 
and by the observance of a service on the anniversary of his death. 

In vain were protestations made to the council ; its persecutions were unrelentingly 
continued. The followers of Huss were excommunicated ; they were deprived of their 
churches, and money was offered to any who would apprehend them. Hundreds were in 
consequence shut up in deep mines ; some were di'owned ; others were burned ; but, like 
their leader, they were faithful uuto death. 

"The hall," says Simond, alluding to the kaiifhcms, " measured by my steps, appeared 
to be about sixty feet wide and one hundred and fifty-three feet long ; the ceiling, about 
seventeen feet high, is supported by two rows of wooden pillars, to which leathern shields, 
measuring three feet and a h^lf by eighteen inches, are suspended. If the red cross upon 
them indicates that they belonged to crusaders, thej^ would be of greater antiquity still than 
the council, since the last crusade preceded it one hundred and fifty years. The thick walls 
bear marks of partitions between each window, indicating the cells where the fathers of 
the council were shut up while forming those solemn decisions which ultimately decided 
nothing. A hole in the gate is still seen, through which provisions and other necessaries 
used to be introduced ; and near that entrance the places where a count and a bishop 
stood sentry night and day. The dusty seats of the Emperor Sigismund and Pope 
Martin Y. are there unceremoniously filled on market daj's by old women selling yarn, 
wholly unconscious of the awe those who filled these seats inspired four himdred years 
ago, and ignorant even of their names." 



IIOAD TO ST. CALL. 417 

The chairs occupied by the emperor and the pope, the Bible of Huss, and some other 
relics of the council, still remain in the hall of the kaufhaus, besides a collection of 
antiquities dug up in the neighbourhood. 

Coxe says : — " I did not omit visiting a small dungeon, about eight feet long, six 
broad, and seven high, in which John Huss was confined, and wherein I observed the 
very stone to which he had been chained. I entered it, however, with very different 
feelings from those which I experienced in 1776, when this convent was the asylum of 
monkish superstition. It is now the seat of trade and industry ; and it must suggest a 
pleasing reflection to a philosophic miad, that a successor of Sigismund, who violated his 
word, should have consigned to a reformed establishment that very convent in which the 
Bohemian divine was imprisoned, and from which he was triumphantly led to the stake ; 
and that the most enlarged principles of toleration should be manifested in the same 
place, where persecution was inculcated by precept and example. It is the triumph of 
reason and religion over bigotry and intolerance." 

A plate of metal let iato the floor of the cathedral, near the entrance, shows the spot 
where John Huss stood when he was condemned. 

One incident in the history of Constance must not be omitted. Messrs. Roberts and 
Meilly, watchmakers of Greneva, were the first persons whom the troubles of their native 
republic drove to Constance. They received from the emperor the following immunities 
for themselves and their countrymen : — The right of purchasing or building houses ; the 
free exercise of their religion in entire independence of the catholic clergy ; the power 
of erecting a tribunal- for the purpose of deciding all aflairs in reference to their manu- 
factures and commerce ; exemption from serving in the militia and quartering soldiers ; 
from all contributions during the space of twenty years ; from duties on their tools and 
utensils ; and, further, the standard of their gold was to be invariably fixed. These 
favourable terms, signed on the 30th of June, 1785, attracted many settlers to Constance. 
The emperor also granted to Mr. Macaire the Convent of the Dominicans, which had 
lately been secularised, for establishing a manufacture of printed linens and cottons. 

Constance contains now an ancient palace, a lyceum, an hospital, a conventual school 
for females, a theatre, and several collections of art and science. It is the seat of the 
circle and district government. The chief resources of the inhabitants are derived from 
the culture of fruit and vegetables, some trade, the navigation of the lake, and a few 
manufactures. 

On the opposite bank of the Rhiae is Peterhausen. Here there was a Benedictine 
monastery, but it is now one of the Grand Duke's chateaux. Its ancient ramparts and 
fosse may still be observed. Near to Constance is also the Island of Meinau, a pleasant 
residence situated in the midst of a well- cultivated estate, now the property of the 
Countess of Langenstein. 

The road from Constance to St. Gall runs through Thurgau, one of the cantons of 
Switzerland, boimded on the north partly by the Lake of Constance, and jaartly by the 
Rhine, which divides it from the canton of Schaff hausen ; on the east and south by the 
canton of St. Gall ; and on the west, by that of Zurich. Its name meaning " district of 
the Thur," arises from that river which comes from the canton of St. Gall, and is joined 
by the Sitter from Appenzell, the river crossing the middle part of it from west to east. 
The valley of the Thur is separated from the basin of the Lake of Constance by a suc- 
cession of hills, which rise in terraces on both sides, and are intersected by several valleys. 
On the south and west sides other hills divide the Thurgau from the valley of the Toss, 
in the canton of Zurich. The whole country belongs to the plateau, or table-land of 
Switzerland^ and is a considerable distance from the Alpine region. 

A remarkable fact in the history of Duke Sigismund of Austria, is connected with this 
canton. On his being excommunicated by the pope, he called on the Swiss to seize the 

2e 



418 SWITZERIAND. 

duke's domains. The forest cantons were not slow in obeying the command. In 1460, 
they entered the fine province of Thurgaii, encountering no opposition ; the town of 
Diessenhofen alone defended its allegiance to Austria, but was obliged to capitulate, 
retaining its privileges as a little republic, under the protection of the cantons. All the 
rest of Thurgau was taken possession of as a conquered country, the cantons assuming the 
rights which the house of Austria had till then exercised over it, as they had done with 
the Aargau, about half a century before. Each of the old eight cantons by turns appointed 
the bailiff, who resided at Frauenfeld, and who was changed every two years. This 
state of things continued till the end of the. eighteenth century. 

In 1803, Thurgau was one of the cantons which became representative republics on a 
democratic principle, by what is called the "Act of Mediation;" the others being 
Aargau, Vaud, Ticino, and St. GaU. It was solemnly delivered by the first consul of 
France, at a public audience, to citizen Barthelemy, who gave it afterwards to citizen 
D'Affry, who was named landamman of Sv/itzerland for that year. The Swiss deputies, 
it may be remarked, soon afterwards returned home, when all the cantons sent 
addresses of thanks to the first consul, and the new constitution being put in force, the 
few French troops, which had entered Switzerland, finally evacuated the country. 

The constitutions of this canton, and others in similar circumstances, were popular, 
and framed on the principle of equality of rights among aU classes of the citizens of each 
canton. The canton was divided into circles, and the electors of each circle sent three 
members, having certain moderate qualificattons, to the legislative council. The dura- 
tion of their functions was limited. The distinction between the three powers, legis- 
lative, executive, and judicial, was strictly defined. These constitutions were remodelled 
in 1814, and a curious sj^stem of elections was then established, contrived, as it was said, 
to give to property a greater influence in the state. The great, or legislative council, 
were removed one-third at a time, and at fixed periods. The mode of election was 
triple : one-third of the new members was elected directly by the assemblies of the circles 
heretofore. These assemblies furnished besides, a list of fair candidates for each circle, 
possessed of a higher qualification than the direct^ chosen members, and out of these 
lists the great council itself chose one member for each circle ; and thus another third of 
the vacant seats was filled. Lastly, an electoral commission, composed of the council of 
state, or executive, of the judges of the high court of appeal, and of a certain number of 
other members of the great council, chose the remaining third chiefly from among 
the wealthier landed proprietors. The duration of the functions of each member was, 
in some cantons, of twelve years ; in some, of eight ; in others, of six ; but in all, 
the members could be re-elected. The great council chose the members of the executive 
and of the higher court of appeal out of its own body, and the members thus chosen, 
continued to sit as legislators. The right of proposing measures belonged exclusively 
to the council of state, or executive, whose projects of law could onl}^ be either accepted 
or rejected by the great council, but not amended. The consequence of this system was, 
that the new cantons, while professing to be popular, in opposition to the old aristocra- 
tians, were ruled, in fact, by a certain junto of individuals, who having once secured 
their seats, elected, or re-elected their friends as their colleagues, who, in their turn, 
re-elected them, and thus a self-electing majority was perpetuated. 

In the old aristocratic cantons considerable concessions had, at least, been made to the 
classes previously excluded from all share in the government ; while the new cantons, 
ci'eations of yesterday, in the name of the people, were now retrograding into a state for 
which no precedent or presumption could be alleged. ^ 

Such an order of things, however, did not long continue. Towards the end of 1830, | 
the councils of Aargau and Vaud, after some popular tumults, happily unattended with 
bloodshed, were obliged by the public voice to appoint commissioners in order to frame 



THURGAU. . 419 

a new constitution. Thurgaii and St. Gall did the same, but in a more quiet and 
eonciliatoiy spirit. 

The climate of Thurgau is comparatively mild ; a great part of the country is planted 
with fruit trees, especiallj^ the apple, the pear, and the cherry ; the vine also thrives in 
several localities. The produce of corn is not sufficient for the consumption. The rivers 
and the lake abound with fish. About two-thirds of the people are said to be protestants, 
and the rest Roman catholics. German is the language of the country. About one-third 
of the people is employed in trade and manufactures ; the latter consisting principally of 
cotton goods. 

It is worth observing that the Lake of Constance, bounded by this rich flat country, is 
three times deeper than any of the moimtain-girt lakes of Switzerland. A name 
remarkable for its antiquity, and for the moral worth of its possessor, is that of Gall, one 
of the associates of Columba, who has become familiar to the reader of history from his 
labours in Ireland, and particularly at lona or Icolmkill, in the Hebrides. Gall being 
told by one of his Swiss disciples, a hunter, of a delicious valley watered by a river, 
where bears and boars repaired to quench their thirst, and which was surrounded by 
mountains covered with eternal snows, repaired to this wilderness with soma of his 
friends. 

They built for themselves dwellings, of a very humble kind, near the falls of the river 
Steinach, subsisting only by the labours of their hands, and civilising those who gathered 
around them, attracted by the rumours of their benevolence. So high was the reputa- 
tion of Gall, that the bishopric of Constance was offered him, which he at once declined, 
and persisted in his usual mode of life until the advanced age of ninety-six. 

The abbey of St. Gall was founded fifty or sixty years after his death near his lonely 
abode, and the sciences were so successfully cultivated in that seminary that it became 
one of the most celebrated schools in Europe, between the eighth and tenth centuries, 
when schools indeed were not numerous. A manuscript of Qiiintillian, as well as that 
of Ammianus Marcellinus, was said to be preserved there ; although giving of the 
country a frightful description. In after times the abbots departed from the course of 
their predecessors, and yielding themselves up to politics and wai', they lost, in the end, 
their power, with the qualities by which it was originally obtained. 

The abbot of St. Gall established a market at Eoschach, near the limits between 
Helvetia and Rhcetia. Athelstan, king of England, sent an embassy to St. Gall, and 
concluded an alliance with the abbey by means of Bishop Keonwald. The abbey was 
then at the height of its splendoua- ; and its friendship was sought by lords and 
sovereigns. In the school singing, writing, and versification were particularly attended 
to, and its reputation for music has continued till later days. Ekkard, who died in 996, 
was one of the most learned men the abbey produced. He was a great favourite with 
Hedwige, duchess of Suabia, a lady conversant with classical literature. After her 
death, the emperor, Henry II., bestowed her abbey of Hohenwell and Stein on the 
BishojD of Bamberg. He granted to the serfs of the bishop and the abbot the right of 
marrj'ing and living together in families; for before that, as in the former ages of 
Borne, that degraded race lived, like the animals of the field, in promiscuous intercourse. 
This was the first great step towards emancipation. Seven other abbeys of Thurgau, 
among which were the chapter of Zurich, St. Gall, Einsiedlin, Seckingen, and Reichenau, 
granted to their serfs connubial rights, as well as the rights of inheriting propertj^ ; but 
others refused to follow the example. 

About the beginning of the fifteenth century, misunderstandings arose between the 
mountaineers of Appenzell and their lord, the abbot of St. Gall. The agents of the 
abbot encroached on the privileges of the people, and levied taxes in a harsh and 
oppressive manner. One of them, the bailifi' of Schwendi, exacted a duty on the 

2 E 2 



420 SWITZERLAND. 

and butter whicli were carried to market ; and he kept two fierce mastifis to fly at any- 
one wko attempted to pass the toll-house without having paid the duty. The bailiff of 
the town of Appenzell had the right of catel or " chattel," in virtue of which the best 
garment of every man who died became his perquisite. He one day caused the grave 
of a man lately buried to be reopened, in order to seize the clothes in which the children 
of the deceased had dressed their parent. These, and many other vexations, joined to 
the example of their neighbours the Swiss, led the Appenzellers to think of emancipating 
themselves from the abbot's rule. On a fixed day they rose, surprised the castles, and 
drove the bailiffs away. The Abbot Cuno, of Stauffen, having no means of suppressing 
the revolt, applied to the imperial towns of Suabia, who were his allies, and who sent 
messengers into Appenzell. The mountaineers said, " they were ready to pay the abbot 
his lawful dues as before, provided he chose his bailiffs among a certain number of 
honest men whom they would propose to him." The imperial towns, however, rejected 
the proposal, and insisted that the former bailiffs of the abbot should be reinstated ; and 
these, through malice and revenge, treated the people worse than before. The Appen- 
zellers then turned to the town of St. Gall, which, having grown around the abbey, and 
being in some measure dependent on it, yet enjoyed imperial franchises and immunities, 
and was allied to other imperial towns. Its position between Germany and Italy 
rendered it a place of considerable trade, which the industry of its inhabitants had 
increased by the establishment of manufactures. The people of St. Gall had also their 
grievances against the abbot ; they listened readily to their neighbours of Appenzell, 
and formed an alliance with them for the purpose of defending their respective privileges. 
The abbot, incensed at this, redoubled his severity against the Appenzellers, and appealed 
agaia to the league of the imperial towns of Suabia, which decided that the alliance 
between St. Gall and Appenzell must be dissolved, but that the abbot might choose his 
bailiffs from among the natives of the latter country. St. Gall submitted to this 
decision. The Appenzellers, perceiving that the nobility of the imperial towns preferred 
the friendship of a priace abbot to the interests of a race of humble mountaineers, 
addressed themselves to their brethren of the Swiss cantons, expecting more sympathy 
from that quarter. Schwitz and Glarus alone answered the call; the former entered into 
a coburghership with the people of Appenzell, and Glarus, without stipulating any act 
of alliance, proclaimed " that all those among the citizens who chose to serve in the 
cause of Appenzell, were free to do so." All the inhabitaijts of Appenzell attended in 
their respective rhodes,* and they all swore to each other, and to the landamman of the 
village of Appenzell, to remain firmly united for the defence of their common rights. 
On hearing this, the imperial towns, urged again by the abbot, collected a considerable 
force, both horse and foot, and sent it to St. Gall, where the abbot reviewed and enter- 
tained them. Thence they proceeded towards Trogen, a village of Appenzell, the 
cavalry, in full armour, being followed by 5,000 infantry. On the 15th of May, 1403, 
they entered the hoUow pass of Speicher, at the foot of the Vogliaseck mountain. The 
men of Appenzell, informed by their scouts of the approach of the enemy, had left their 
wives and children, and, after receiving the blessiags of their aged parents, they posted 
themselves, to the number of 2,000, on the summit of the mountain ; eighty of them 
advanced to the cliffs which overhang the hollow way, while 300 men of Schwitz, and 
200 of Glarus, placed themselves in the wood on each side of the road. The enemy's 
cavaby boldly ascended the mountain. The eighty Appenzellers began the attack with their 
slings, whilst the men of Glarus and Schwitz rushed upon the flanks of the column. The 
cavalry, pressed in a narrow way, spurred their horses to gain the plaiu on the summit 

* Rhodes, from Eotte, troop or band, means the commiines or hundreds into which Appenzell is 
divided. Tliis denomination continues to the present day. 



THE ABBOT OF ST. GALL. 421 

of the hill, -wheTL they perceived the whole force of AppenzeU advancing to meet them. 
At this sight the leaders of the c»lumn ordered a retreat, in order to regain the open 
country below. The dismal word retire ! sounded along the files of the long column — 
the infantry ia the rear thought aU was lost, and began to disband — the people of 
AppenzeU, Schwitz, and Grlarus fell from every side on the cavalry cooped up in the 
hollow way. Six hundred cavaliers lost their lives, the rest spurred their horses through 
the ranks of their own infantry, the rout became general, and the discomfited troops 
reached St. Gall in the greatest confusion. 

The allies of the Swiss at the beginniag of the sixteenth century were of two sorts — 
the socii and the confcederati. The first, which consisted of the abbot of St. Gall, the city 
of the same name, and the towns of Mulhausen and of Bienne, sent deputies to the 
several diets, and, without being cantons, were considered as parts of the Helvetic body. 
The confcederati were either, like the Grisons and the Valais, allied to all the cantons, or 
only to some of them, which last was the case with the repubKc of Geneva and the country 
of Neuchatel. They did not send deputies to the diets, but were entitled to assistance in 
case of foreign attack. Several of these associates and confederates had also their subjects, 
as well as the cantons themselves. 

The abbot of St. Gall was sovereign of a fine district extending from the river Thur to 
the lake of Constance, and including several little towns, such as Roschach and Wyl ; 
he was also prince of the county of Tockenburg, as far as Glarus and Schwitz, and he 
had the lower jurisdiction over the Rheinthal. The abbot's palace, or rather castle, it 
being surrounded with walls and ditches, stands in the middle of the town, which had 
grown up aroxmd the abbey, but had become at an early period independent of it, whilst 
the jurisdiction of the abbot was maintained over the surrounding country, and to within 
a mile or two of the city gates. This singular state of things gave rise to frequent 
altercations, and it happened at times that the abbot was blockaded within the precincts 
of his abbey by the citizens of St. Gall, whilst his dependents in the country coming to 
his relief, beleaguered the citj"-. 

The five catholic cantons, dissatisfied with the spreading of the reformed doctrines, in 
consequence of the liberty of conscience granted by the religious peace of 1529, and 
emboldened by the appearance of affairs in Germany, sought an opportunity for a fresh 
quarrel. The reformed cantons, and Zurich especially, were not long before they 
furnished them with a plausible one. Zurich and the reformed part of Glarus had been 
promoting the reformation in the territories of the abbot of St. Gall with a violence of 
zeal that made them overlook the dictates of justice and the faith due to existing treaties. 
On the death of the abbot, in March, 1529, the four cantons, protectors of the abbey, 
Zurich and Glarus on one side, and Lucerne and Schwitz on the other, disagreed about 
the election of his successor. The monks had elected Kilian ; but Zurich refused to 
acknowledge him " imless he proved by the Scriptures that a monastic life and its prac- 
tices were acceptable to God." Those subjects of the abbey who had embraced the 
reformation declared also against him. At Wyl they openly revolted against the abbot's 
authorities. Kilian escaped with his monks to Bregentz, in the Austrian territories, 
taking with him the gold and silver of the abbey and the title-deeds. He then went to 
Ausburg to ask the assistance of Charles V. ; but on his return to Bregentz he was 
drowned, in August, 1530, in fording a river. The monks next elected Diethehn Blaater. 
But Zurich and Glarus took upon themselves to sell the abbey with its dependencies to 
the town of St. Gall, after removing the remaining valuables. Six of the monks embraced 
the reformed doctrines, and were allowed pensions. The Tockenburgers were declared 
free on paying to Zurich and Glarus 14,000 guilders. The abbey was thus completely 
secularised by force. 

Peterman, baron of Raron, sold the county of Tockenburg, in 1468, to Ulrich, abbot 



422 SWITZERLAND. 

of St. Gall. It remained subject to the abbey till the end of tbe eigbteenth century. 
Serious disturbances arose from this connexion in the sixteentb century. 

The county of Tockenburg, containing about 50,000 inhabitants, and situated between 
Zurich, Appenzell, Glarus, and the other lands of the abbot, had been, ever since the 
Reformation, divided between the two religions, of which the reformed reckoned by far 
the most disciples. The A'ictory of Cappel, obtained by the catholic cantons in 1531, 
having reinstated the abbot in all his' jurisdiction, the Tockenburgers had returned to 
their allegiance to him, maintaining, however, their ancient privileges, their own 
magistracy, the right of liberating accused persons upon bail, which was a very old 
custom in Tockenburg, and, above all, their religious freedom. Some of the abbots, 
however, encroached by degrees on the people's rights ; and at last the abbot Leodegar, 
at the beginning of the eighteenth century, assumed the authority of an absolute master 
over Tockenburg. He established his own courts of justice, appointed the local magis- 
trates, and excluded the protestants from all places of trust. He obliged the inhabitants 
to work at the public roads, although they had twice redeemed themselves from the 
toils to which they were formerly subject ; and upon their remonstrating against this, 
he fined them heavily. He assumed the right of administering the church revenues and 
disposing of ecclesiastical preferments, and lastly, that of regulating all matters concerning 
the militia, 

The two cantons of Schwitz and Glarus, coburghers and protectors of Tockenburg, 
being, the first wholly, and the other partly, catholic, remained indifferent spectators of 
these encroachments. Not so the protestant cantons ; and Zurich, in particular, after 
remonstrating with the abbot, sent, in 1709, some troops towards the frontiers of 
Tockenburg. The abbot, on his side, placed garrisons iu the various castles, and prepared 
for war. The people of Tockenburg rose in 1710, and 'expelled the abbot's garrisons, 
and anarchy and confusion sjDread over the country. The protestant cantons openly 
espoused the cause of the Tockenburgers, while the catholic took the part of the abbot. 
The Zurichers and Tockenburgers united attacked the abbot in his own territories, 
ravaged them, and obliged him and his monks to escape to Lindau, across the Lake of 
Constance. The town of Wjd made a long resistance, but surrendered at last. Cruelties 
were committed on both sides. The catholic cantons, in order to prevent the troops of 
Berne from joining those of Zurich, seized on Baden, Bremgarten, and other bailiwicks 
in the Aargau. Zurich and Berne then ordered a joint attack on Baden, and, in the 
month of May, 1712, having taken Bremgarten, they laid siege to the castle of Baden, 
which is built on a steep hill. After a severe cannonade, by which the to^vn Avas greatly 
damaged, the commander of the garrison, Crivelli of Uri, surrendered ; and from that 
time the castle of Baden has remained ia ruins, as it is seen at the present day. 

Negotiations were next resorted to, but without any results. A religious war now 
raged throughout Switzerland ; nearly 150,000 men, Catholics against Protestants, were 
under arms. Austria and France threatened to interfere, but fortunately England, 
Holland, and Prussia kept them in check. After several desultory actions, an army of 
12,000 men from Lucerne and the Waldstatten, under Ackerman of Unterwalden, 
advanced in Juljr along the valley of the Beuss to Willmergen, where they met, on the 
25th, the troops of Berne, amounting to about 9,000, on the same ground where the 
Bernese had been defeated fifty-six years before. This second battle of Wilmergen, 
however, had a difierent result from the former one. It lasted six hours, and was 
obstinately fought on both sides. At last the Bernese broke through the ranks of their 
enemies, who fled, leaving on the field of battle 2,000 men, three superior officers, five 
Capuchin friars, besides colours, cannon, etc. The Bernese lost 800 men, and had most 
of their officers wounded. The victorious army then entered the canton of Lucerne, 
while the Zurichers invaded Zug, took Eapperschwyl, -and threatened Schwitz. The five 



ULUIC GRUBENMAX. 423 

catholic cantons sued for peace, which was concluded at Aargau in the following August, 
1712. The catholic cantons gave iip to Zurich and Berne the exclusive sovereignty of 
Baden, Bremgarten, Mellingen, and the other bailiwicks of Aargau, and admitted Berne 
intq the co-sovereignty of Thurgau, Rheinthal, and Sargans. The regency of Tocken- 
burg remained as Berne and Zurich had established it, until matters should be settled 
with the abbot. This convention served permanently to ensure religious liberty to the 
subject bailiwicks, and the possession of the county of Baden opened a free communi- 
cation between Berne and Zurich. No more religious wars occurred in Switzerland 
after the peace of Aargau. The abbot of St. Gall, Leodegar, still persisting in his 
unreasonable pretensions over Tockenburg, died in exile, and his successor acceded to 
terms in 1718. AIL the ancient immunities and rights of the Tockenburgers were 
guaranteed to them, whUst they, on their part, aclmowleded the sovereignty of the 
abbot. 

The abbot of St. Gall has been often mentioned in the course of this history. He was 
a titular prince of the German empire, and was chosen by the Dominican monks of the 
abbey out of their own body. His territory, after the loss of St. Gall and Appenzell, 
consisted of the old abbey territories, alte landmhafft, and of the Tockenburg. His 
limited jurisdiction over the latter has been already described. In the old territory, 
containing 45,000 inhabitants,, the dominion of the abbot was monarchical and absolute, 
excepting certain municipal privileges which the towns enjoyed. The principal towns 
were Wyl and Roschach, the latter being on the lake of Constance. The abbot used to 
send a deputy to the federal diet of the Swiss. The city of St. Gall enjoj'ed the same 
privilege, both being socii of the confederation. The city was surrounded by the terri- 
tories of the abbot, whilst the abbey itself stood within the city, and was surrounded by 
walls and ditches. The government of the city was a mixture of aristocracy and 
democracy. 

" Among the chief part of the inhabitants," says Coxe, " the original simplicity of the 
pastoral life is stUl preserved ; and I saw several venerable figures with long beards, that 
resembled the pictures of the ancient patriarchs. The natives of this canton, in common 
with the inhabitants of democracies, possess a natural frankness, and a peculiar tone of 
equality, which arise from a consciousness of their own independence. They also 
display a fund of original humour, and are remarkable for great quickness of repartee, 
and rude sallies of wit, which render their conversation extremely agreeable and 
interesting. 

" In oui- way to Appenzell, we passed through Tuffen, the birth-place of Ulric Gruben- 
man : he has been dead some years ; but his abilities and his skill ia practical architec- 
ture are, if I may use the expression, hereditary in his family. We inquired for one of 
the same name who was either his brother or his nephew, whom we found at the 
alehouse ; his usual place of resort when he has no particular employment. He is a 
heavy, coarse-looking man, dressed like a common peasant ; has a quick and penetrating 
eye, and a surprising readiness of conversation. We told him that we were Englishmen, 
making the tour of Switzerland ; and that we could not pass through Tuffen without 
desiring to see a man who was so much celebrated for his skill in architecture. He 
struck his breast, and replied in German, ' Here you see but a boor.' Upon our talking 
with him about the bridge of Schaffhausen, in the building of which he was employed, he 
assured us, that it did not rest upon the middle pier, but is, in reality, a single arch. 
Near AppenzeU, we observed an old man, with venerable white hair hanging over his 
shoulders, who looked like a substantial farmer. He inqmred with a tone of authority, 
but with perfect civility, who we were ; and upon our asking the same question respecting 
himself, of our guide, we were informed, that he was the Landamman, or chief of the 
republic. Happy people ! the nature of whose country, and the constitution of whose 



424 S^MTZEllL.'i.XD. 

government both equally oppose the strongest barriers against the introduction of 
luxury." 

Simond says, not quite forty years ago, " We were taken to the most commodious 
cotton-mill of the place, set in motion not by water or steam, but by the labour of an 
ox acting the part of turnspit ; the poor animal, shut up in a wheel thirty-three feet in 
diameter, walks on in self-defence, as the wheel being once in motion he must go with 
it, which he does very deliberately resting his foot on brackets or pieces of board, 
nailed across the revolving floor. There are three oxen working by turns, each two 
hours ; they last, at this rate, two or three years ; the power is suf&cient to move 
twenty-nine mides of two hundred and sixteen spindles each (there were only twenty 
going when I saw it), with carding and cleaning machines in proportion ; one hundred 
and thirty persons are employed, half of them children." 

At the distance of five Swiss leagues from St. Gall is Gaiss, a place of resort for 
drinking goat's whey, long supposed to ■ have a curative power. "When General Van- 
damme was in this neighbourhood, the magistrates of the commime of Gaiss received a 
letter from him in French, which was translated by the landlord of the Sceuf, a magis- 
trate, a man of property, and the only inhabitant at all acquainted with that language. 
The substance of the epistle was, that some friends of the general at Paris, having heard 
of the great perfection of the worked muslins at Gaiss, had commissioned him, if he 
happened to go that way, to purchase for them a certain quantity of these muslins, as 
per margin ; and the general trusted that the commune would charge the lowest price at 
the longest credit. 

The magistrates did not well know what to make of this message, but the hotel-keeper, 
a man of experience, explained to them that there was no room to hesitate, and that they 
would be very well oif if no more was required. The muslins, therefore, were procured and 
sent the next day, with a request that the general would take his own time for the 
payment. Scarcely a month had passed, when General Vandamme's friends, highly 
approving of the muslins, favoured the town of Gaiss with another order. Again was 
"our host" consulted, and again did he advise compliance ; but the magistrates thought 
it best to procrastinate, and despatched a reply in evasive terms. This was the last of 
their commissions, but they received instead, a visit from a party of soldiers, who 
re.mained some weeks quartered among them, consuming many times the amount of 
the muslins. 

A walk from Gaiss leads to Arn-Stofs, the spot marked by an old chapel, where, nearly 
four hundred and fifty years ago, the men of Appenzell defeated, with great slaughter, 
an army of Austrians four times their number. It is on the brow of a hill, 1,500 Or 
2,000 perpendicular feet above the valley of the Rheinthal, which is seen below, 
checquered with cultivation ; while villages and towns are scattered along the devious 
course of the Rhiae. On the other side of this fine vaUey rise the Tyrolese mountains, 
capped with bright snows, on which it seems that the traveller might throw a stone. 

Simond, who visited this spot, says, " The Gatris is a moimtain of easy ascent, over 
smooth lawns ; it afl'ords the same prospect extended from a greater height. Upon its 
rising summit, and in the neighbourhood of unmelted snows, we were much incommoded 
by a swarm of ants with wings, and much more active than could have been expected 
from the temperature. Near these snows we observed a large shrub, with leaves like 
those of a laurel ; its fine flowers were not unlike those of the pomegranate ; ar d also a 
flourishing holty, with abundance of roses and eglantine." 

The canton of Appenzell lies at the north eastern extremity of Switzerland, and is 
inclosed on every side by the territory of the canton of St. Gall. JSText to Geneva it is 
the most thickly inhabited canton of the country, in proportion to its extent. Its terri- 
tory is very mountainous, though it is not within the range of the higher Alpine chains ; 



ArpEKZETX. 435 

its mountains are calcareous, and mostly covered with rich pastures ; the highest of them, 
called the Sentis, which rises on the southern border of the canton, is 7,700 feet above the 
level of the sea. The river Sitter, which has its source at the foot of this mountain, 
crosses Appenzell in a north-western direction, and afterwards joins the river Thur in the 
canton of Thurgau. 

Some peasants of Uri and TJnderwalder, driving their cattle to the great annual fair of 
Valeze in the Milaneve, had their oxen and horses taken from them by the custom-house 
officers of the Duke Galcas Viscarti. This was in the early part of the fifteenth century. 
The cantons having expostulated in vain, assembled some troops, crossed the St. Grothard, 
and appearing unexpectedly in the valley of Levantina, received the ready submission of 
the inhabitants, and returned home satisfied with having secured this important entrance 
into Italy. For some years they held it imdisturbed, but threatened at last by the sons 
of Viscarti, they repassed the Alps in the depth of winter, again silenced all opposition, 
and secured for their allies in the valley those rights which they had originally under- 
taken to protect, as well as a safe and free passage for themselves. 

In treating with the Italians, the Swiss, always their inferior in diplomatic art, were 
sure of carrying their point another way. Happy if the possession of their citadel on 
the summit of the old world, satisfying their ambition, they had been contented with 
guarding its approaches. 

The shepherds of Yal Levantiaa having received some injury from those of Val 
d'Ossola or Eschenthal, the Swiss, as their protectors, remonstrated with the Milanese 
barons of Val d'Ossola, but were treated with derision and contempt. An immediate 
invasion through the wild pass of the Simplon showed to these imprudent lords the 
rashness of their conduct. They sought safety in flight, the whole valley surrendered at 
discretion, and the Swiss marched back to their mountains, leaving a small garrison at 
Dome d'Ossola. But the barons having surprised and retaken the town soon after their 
departure, they crossed the Alps again, and once more established their authority, -with 
the same success, although not without more opposition. The castle of Facinoean was 
blown up by means of a mine, and the garrison buried under its ruins ; the fort of 
Domo d'Ossola destroyed, and many other strongholds taken. This is the first time that 
gunpowder is mentioned in the Helvetic wars. The confederates also appear to have 
had a great gun. 

Incapable of defending it, the nobles now sold the Eschenthal to the Count of Savoy, 
and this prince sending troops through the Valais, and over the Simplon, whilst 
Carmignola, the best general then in Italy, advanced with the Milanese forces from 
the southern side, the Waldstatten, unprepared for this double attack, evacuated the 
country. 

At the northern foot of St. Grothard was another valley, the TJrsenthal, a fief of the 
emperor, l?ut sc inconsiderable, that they had forgotten to bestow the feudal investi- 
ture. After many years, a capital crime was committed in the valley, and the 
inhabitants then perceived, for the first time, that they had no judge to take cognizance 
of it. In this emergency they applied to Uri, the landamman of that canton having 
been constituted high-justiciary by the emperor, and two judges were sent to them from 
his tribunal. From this time, Urseren and Uri formed only •one commune, but the 
latter remained exclusively the seat of justice. It was certainly a strange perception of 
the right of inflicting punishment on criminals thus to imagine that it could be alienated 
like private propertj', bought and sold for a valuable consideration, or bestowed as a free 
gift to oblige a friend, and that the licence of a foreign prince was necessary, and could 
give the right to hang a man abroad ! Yet this notion kept its ground in Switzerland 
long after every other idea of political dependence on the emperor had been shaken oif. 

The secluded and hitherto submissive shepherds of Appenzell were the next to assert 



426 SWITZEEIAND. 

their rights and resist oppression. The country is an insulated group of mountains, 
forming the left boundary of the valley of the Rhine, near that river's entrance into the 
lake of Constance ; it has been added by purchase to the extensive tracts which Clovis, 
king of the Franks, originally granted to the founders of the abbey of St. Gall. Under 
the paternal care of the monks, the country, once a desert, long continued to advance in 
wealth and prosjjerity, until one of the abbots, abusing his power, imposed exorbitant 
charges upon the people, accompanied, on the part of his bailiffs, by every aggravation of 
insult and cruelty. It is upon record, that for their amusement they worried the 
jjeasants with large dogs. The mountaineers long brooded in silence over their injuries, 
and at length a league was seci'etly formed between four of the principal districts. On 
the appointed day they appeared in arms, and the petty tyrants quickly fled, abandoning 
their castles. The abbot implored assistance from the imperial towns upon the lakes ; 
an unavailing arbitration took place, but the vexations of the bailiffs soon re- 
commenced. 

Appenzell then applied to the cantons to be admitted into their league, but was refused 
by all but the Schwitz ; who, however, only sent an experienced officer to head them in 
the field, and, as it likewise appears, a landamman to direct their afiairs. Grlarus, 
precluded by her terms of union from forming a separate alliance, did not prevent 200 
of her young men from engaging in the war. The result was, as on all similar occasions 
during the last hundred years, favourable to the patriots. "With an army of 2,000 men, 
they defeated their opjDonents at Speicher ; after which, feeling able to defend themselves, 
the men of Appenzell dismissed their friends, with 600 suits of steel armour and four 
banners as their share of the booty ; and might now perhaps have terminated, by com- 
promise, the feudatory war which still continued, had not the duke of Austria declared 
his intention of defending the abbot, and of .marching with his vassals, and those of the 
nobles of Thurgau, to humble the insolent shepherds. They, however, had also found 
a valuable auxiliary in Count Rodolph of "Werdenburg, of the race of Montford — a man 
of high reputation, and inimical to the duke for some offence committed against his 
family. Having fortified the passes of their mountains under his direction, they awaited 
the atta;ck of the enemy, which commenced in two places on the 17th June. One 
division of the duke's army, which had come round by the Rheinthal, forced the 
entrenchments at the foot of the Stoss, under Gaiss, and began to ascend the hill by 
paths now rendered slippery and difiicult by heavy rain, whilst the shepherds were 
rolling down trunks of trees and stones collected for that purpose, and fighting, whenever 
they came to close encounter, with the most desperate valour. One man, Uly Rotoech 
by name, planting his back against a chalet, sustained alone the attack of twelve 
assailants, and, after killing five of them, suffered himself to be consumed with the 
building, to which they had set fire behind him, rather than surrender. The assailants 
Avere already exhausted by a laborious ascent over grounds so well defended, when Count 
Rodolph and his men, barefooted, in order to tread more surely upon the wet grass, left 
their positions, and came down with loud shouts to meet them. The charge was, 
however, received with great steadiness, and the ground disputed for six hours longer, 
until a stratagern induced the Austrians to retreat. The women of Appenzell, disguised 
like men, appearing in ^rfeat numbers among the woods and precipices on their flank, 
were mistaken for fresh troops about to turn them. Embarrassed on their retreat by the 
entrenchment they had passed in the morning, the Austrians were at length thrown 
into disorder, and a great carnage ensued. In the meantime, the duke himself, at the 
head of the other division, had penetrated to the to^\'n of St. Gall, but found himself 
unable to take it, or to advance further, and was on his return exposed to the attacks of 
the enemy, who watched his motions from among the fastnesses of the Hauptlisberg, and 
lost many of his noble followers. Unwilling to leave the country without signal 



APPENZELL. 



vengeance for the double disgrace his arms had experienced in one day, he feigned soon 
after a retreat towards the Tyrol, and, turning suddenly to fhe right, began to ascend 
the Wolfshaddle, towards the village of Appenzell ; but the people, secretly informed by 
a woman about the camp, were prepared to receive the Austrians, killed at least ten men 
for every one of their own that fell, and gave them a final repulse. The duke, in despair, 
returned to Inspruck. Their warlUvO achievements raised the fame of the men of 
Appenzell even above that of the other Swiss, and their alliance was now sought after by 
all their neighbours. With St. Gall ' they made a treaty, offensive and defensive, for 
niae years, exception only being made on the part of St. Gall in favour of the imperial 
towns during one year, on account of the truce between them ; and, on the part of 
Appenzell, in favour of Schwitz, on account of their perpetual coburghership with that 
canton. Both parties reserved the rights of the Germanic empire, which were yet held 
paramount. 

The men of Appenzell and St. Gall now retaliated at leisure upon the duke of Austria 
for his unprovoked aggression. Sixteen hundred of them overran his lands, and those of 
his vassals, along the course of the Rhine, on the lake of Wallenstadt, the lake of Zurich, 
and in the Tyrol, nowhere opposed by the peasants, who probably favom'ed their cause 
in secret. They testified their gratitude to the count of Werdenberg by reinstating 
him in the patrimony taken from him by the duke ; and to the good allies of Schwitz, by 
the gift of a valuable tract of land between the lakes of Wallenstadt and Zurich, being a 
part of their late conquests. 

The confederated cantons, far from entering frankly into the war, and supporting 
Appenzell and St. Gall in their, invasion of the Tyrol, where a bulwark of hardy republics 
might have been formed sufficient to shut out the Germans from Italy for ever, forbade 
the acceptance of their gift to Schwitz, as likely to involve them in the war. 

The conquerors were compelled to retrace their steps ; yet they did it so leisurely, that 
they took and destroyed all the castles in their way. Having reached their mountains 
in safety, the men of Appenzell employed the long winter nights that ensued in recount- 
ing the achievements of the late wonderful campaign, whilst they prepared for the next 
by giving a new point to the halberd and a fresh edge to the sword. They needed no 
other weapons — strength of arm was their ordnance, the enemy's country their magazine. 
Such was the simplicity of their habits and manners, that on one occasion they carried 
away some casks of pepper found among the plunder, but abandoned a quantity of plate, 
as less to their taste. 

Before the Reformation, the whole canton was under one government ; but since that 
period, part of the inhabitants having embraced the protestant religion, and the other 
part continuing catholics, violent disputes were kindled between them ; which, after 
much contest, were at length compromised. By an agreement in 1597, the canton was 
divided into two portions, or communes ; Rhodes Exterior, and Rhodes Interior : it was 
stipulated that the former should be appropriated to the protestants, and the latter to the 
catholics. Accordingly, the two parties finally separated, and formed two republics; 
their government, police, and finances being totally independent of each other. Each 
district sends a deputy to the general diet : the whole canton, however, has but one 
vote, and loses its suffrage if the two parties are not unanimous. In both divisions the 
sovereign power is vested in the people at large ; every male who is past sixteen having 
a vote in their general assembly, held yearly for the creation of their magistrates and 
the purposes of legislation, and each voter is obliged to appear armed on that particular 
occasion. The landamman is the first magistrate : in each district there are two, who 
administer the office alternate^, and are confirmed yearly. They have each a council 
which possesses jurisdiction in civil and criminal causes, has the care of the police, the 
management of the finances, and the general administration of affairs. The landamman 



438 SAVITZERLAm). 

regent presides ; and the other, during the time in which he is out of office, is bannaret 
or chief of the militia. 

The Rhodes Exterior is much larger, and more peopled in proportion, than the Interior; 
and the protestants are in general more commercial and industrious than the catholics. 
The former are supposed to amount to thirty-seven thousand, the latter to twelve thou- 
sand : an extraordinary number in so small a canton, entirely mountainous, and of which 
a great part consists of barren and inaccessible rocks. But the industry of the inha- 
bitants amply compensates for any disadvantages of soil, for the people are frugal and 
laborious, their property is secured, and they are exempted from all burdensome and 
arbitrary taxes. These circumstances, joined to the right of joartaking of the legislation, 
and of electing their magistrates, inspire them with such animated sentiments of their 
own importance and independence, as excite the most active and vigorous industry ; and 
those necessaries to which the industry is not sufficient are abimdantly supplied by their 
neighbours in exchange for manufactures and other articles of domestic commerce. The 
chief part of the habitable country consists of rich pastures ; and of course their prin- 
cipal exports are cattle and hides, together with cheese and butter. Their manufactures 
are coarse cottons and muslins in great quantities, which are entirely made in the houses 
of the inhabitants. The cotton is spun with the common wheel. The web is bleached 
at home, and afterwards sent to be printed in the neighbourhood of Neuchatel. " The 
greatest bleachery," says a traveller, " I saw in the Alps was near Appenzell, which 
extended over three or four acres of ground. Part of the river Sitler is diverted to turn 
the mill, which is of the simplest construction. A large wheel on the outside works a J 
long cylinder within, on which are fixed a number of cogs to raise the hammers which 1 
beat the webs. In the same place are the boilers and other conveniences for the ' 



Another traveller remarks, when in this part of Switzerland, " The women of the house 
where we stopped to rest were employed in worldng muslins, tambouring, open work, and 
embroidery, earning two batz a day (not quite three-pence sterling). One of them was 
churning by means of a lever suspended from the ceiling. The house was built of larch, 
spacious and clean ; it had a large common room up stairs for company, with many 
windows commanding the fine prospect. The furniture of that room consisted of a long 
bench round three sides, and a long table before it ; an enormous earthen stove, so con- 
structed as to answer the purpose of steps to ascend to the next story above by an opening 
in the ceiling of the room. The kitchen, in another part of the building, has no chimney, 
but the smoke issues out of a hole in the roof, covered with a shutter, which is opened or 
closed by pulling a rope. I have already described the projecting roofs of these houses, 
the projecting gallery under the eaves of that roof, the high pointed gable ends fidl of 
windows, the outside stairs, etc. Above the first floor, built of stone, the upper structure 
is composed of square beams placed one over the other, and dovetailed at the angles of 
the building ; the whole covered with boards within and without. Although the sides of 
the building show only one story above the ground-floor, yet the gable end, or rather 
front, has four or five, each marked by a row of small contiguous windows. This front 
is decorated with passages from the Scriptures, inscribed very neatly on the wood, as well 
as the date of the building (often two himdred years back), name of the builder, subse- 
quent restorers, etc. This wood is not painted, but, which does as well, the resin that 
oozes at first covers it with a sort of natural varnish of a brownish colour." The dress 
of the people, in all such circumstances, on ordinary occasions, is extremely humble ; it 
is only on occasions of some festivity, that the gaiety of costume is observable which has 
frequently been supposed to be that which is commonly worn. 

Rapperschwyl is a small walled town ; its antiquated and crazy fortifications look 
very well from the outside, but the buildings cooped up within them, equally 




RETURN FROM THE -WEDDING 



430 SWITZERLAND. 

antiquated, are not alike picturesque. This is, however, a premature old age, as the 
town was bui'nt to the ground by the usurper, Rgdolph Brun, nearly five hundred years 
ago, and the present erection must be of a subsequent date. 

" Yesterday," says Cose, in one of his letters, " we dined luxuriously with the 
Capuchin friars at Eapperschwyl, who seldom treat their guests in so sumptuous a 
manner. It was one of their great feast-days ; and they regaled us with every variety of 
fish with which the lake and the neighbouring rivers abound. The convent stands upon 
the edge of the water, and commands an agreeable prospect ; the library is by far the 
pleasantest apartment, though not the most frequented. The cells of the monks are 
small, and yet not inconvenient ; but cleanliness does not seem to constitute any part of 
theii' moral or religious observances. Indeed the very habit of the order is weU 
calculated for that pm-pose, as they wear no shirt or stockings, and ai'e clothed in a 
coarse kind of brown drugget i-obe, which trails upon the ground. Strange idea of 
sanctity ! As if dirt could be acceptable to the Deity. I reflected with particular 
satisfaction, that I was not born a member of the Roman Catholic church ; as perhaps 
the commands of a parent, a sudden disai^pointment, or a momentary fit of enthusiasm, 
might have sent me to a convent of Capuchins, and have wedded me to dirt and 
superstition for life." 



CHAPTER XXX. 

THE CITY OF ZURICH. 

At a time wlien a traveller may proceed from London to Bale in twenty-six hours, and, 
if he wishes it, speedily be borne onwards through the interesting countrj^ to which it 
thus becomes the inlet, it cannot be. deemed uninteresting to observe the course taken 
by people three hundred years ago, and particidarlj^ such a person as the historian, 
De Thou. It shoidd, however, be remarked, that he speaks only in general of the long- 
course of falls of the Rhine, without bestowing a look or a word on the one ^J«r 
excellence. " Thuanus," says he (always speaking in the. third person, and in Latin), 
"having accompanied his elder brother to the waters of Plombieres, in 1579, took 
advantage of the opportunity to visit a part of Suabla and Switzerland. From Ausburg 
he went, by way of Meiningen and Lindau, to Constance. Those who go round the 
lake are gratified with the sight of its banks covered with vines descending gently to the 
water, which reflects the brilliant perspective. Thence, following the course of the 
Rhine, De Thou visited Schaffhausen, one of the principal towns of the Helvetic league, 
Lauffenberg, and Rainfeldeu : and during all that space, the Rhine forms noisy cataracts, 
where it begins to be navigable. In crossing the lake to Zurich in an open boat, a storm 
arose, and he was in imminent danger of being drowned'with the rest of the passengers. 

" Thuanus viewed with much pleasure the town which had been from the earliest 
times the chief of the Swiss cantons ;" and as here we have now arrived, though by a 
different route, we proceed to give a brief history, and also to describe the leading 
features, of this highly interesting city. 

So early as the tenth century, Zurich had become the depot of an extensive commerce 
between Italy and Germany, by the road which crosses Mount Septimer and the valley of 
the Misocco, and over Mount Cenis into Lombardy. Even then it was styled civitas est 
colonia iinjjeratorum. This was at the time when Heniy I. ordered the towns to be 
surrounded by walls and ditches, in order to defend them against the frequent irruptions 
of the Hungarians. He appointed, at the same time, markgrafs on the neglected 
frontiers ; whilst at the head of his Q-ermans he defeated the Hungarians, and checked 
their fearful advance upon western Europe. To the towns and ancient colonies which 
still existed he gave charters, and he was the founder of the bourgeoisie or third estate. 
By degrees the artisans in the towns excelled those in the country, for in the latter the 
same family did all kinds of wdrk, as spinning and weaving, themselves ; whilst in the 
towns the division of labour was first practised, and every workman followed a particular 
branch of trade, which he continued all his Hfe. At last the peasants confined them- 
selves to the works of the field, and came to the towns to purchase other things they 
wanted with the surplus of their produce. The exchange between town and country 
thus became regular, and days were fixed for markets and fairs. Agriculture and 
handicraft being thus mutually encouraged, soon afforded a surplus for speculation and 
extended commerce with foreign countries. The emperor established at Zurich tribunals 



432 S^VlTZaLELAND. 

and consulsMps for the Lombards and other nations who traded on the road. Inn- 
keepers, tradespeople, artisans, custom-house oificers, crowded into the town ; and Zurich 
became the capital of Thurgau, or northern Helvetia. 

Zurich subsequently obtained from the emperor Frederic II. very considerable 
privileges, which were acknowledged and augmented by several of his successors. The 
civil war between the magistrates and the people, in 1335, nearly reduced the city to 
ruins ; but the former being banished, the citizens, in 1337, established a new form of 
government, which was confirmed by the emperor Louis of Bavaria. The exiles, after 
several fruitless attempts, were at length readmitted ; but it being discovered that they 
had engaged in a conspiracy against the citizens, they were put to death. In consequence 
of this transaction, the nobles in the neighbourhood took up arms against the town. 
The latter, after having ineffectually applied for assistance to the emperor Charles IV., 
formed an alliance with Lucerne, Uri, Schwitz, and Underwalden, and was admitted a 
member of that confederacy. This event happened in the year 1351. The four cantons 
yielded the pre-eminence to Zurich : a privilege it enjoys at present, being the first 
canton in raiik, and the most considerable in extent both of territory and power next to 
Berne. In the same year, Zmich was assisted by the four cantons against Albert, duke 
of Austria, who besieged the town, and was repulsed with great loss. 

On the 26th May, 1540, the sovereign coujicH issued a decree, importing, that 
whosover was desirous of becoming a citizen, should be obliged to produce a certificate of 
good behaviour, properly witnessed and signed, and bearing the seal of the magistrates 
of the place in which he formerly resided ; and should, before he was enrolled among 
the burghers, pay ten florins if a native of Switzerland, and double that sum if a 
stranger. An inhabitant of the town or canton was taxed only at three florius for his 
admission ; and all artists, and persons of learniag necessary or useful to the state, were 
to be received gratis. In 1549, it was enacted, that the burghership should be refused 
to all who were not possessed of considerable riches, or who did not introduce new arts 
and trades. This decree was repeatedly confirmed ; and in 1593 it was added, that a new 
citizen should not be entitled to share in the government but on the following con- 
ditions : — If an inhabitant of the canton, he must have resided in the town during ten 
years ; if a native of Switzerland, twenty ; if a foreigner, forty ; and that he must build 
or purchase a house within the walls of Zurich : this last article was repealed in 1612. 
In 1597, the reception of new citizens was delayed for the first time, but only for two 
years ; and in 1610 the admission money was augmented. 

In the commencement of the seventeenth century, the government refused to receive 
into the sovereign council the noble families of Orel, Peffaluzz, and Muralt ; which, in 
1555 and 1557, had quitted Italy and settled at Zurich; these families, partly on 
account of having embraced the reformed religion, and partly as persons of capacity and 
industry, had been received into the burghership, but rendered incapable of enjoying 
a share in the administration of afiairs. This exclusion, again confirmed ru 1592, was 
revoked in 1673, in favour only of the family of Muralt, which exception was obtained 
by considerable largesses. In 1674 the family of Orel ojffered to disburse ten thousand 
florins toward the expense of repairing the fortifications, on condition of being rendered 
capable of election into the sovereign council : their ' petition was then refused, but 
generously granted in 1679, without the smallest equivalent. Finally, on the 7th of 
January, 1661, the council determined to make no more burghers ; which resolution has 
been invariably followed. 

The burghers, beside the advantage of electing their magistrates, and of aspiring to 
the administration of afiairs, enjoyed the sole right of commerce ; all strangers, and even 
siibjects, being excluded from establishing manufactures in the city, or in any part of 
the canton. The burghers of Zurich were divided into thirteen tribes, one of which is 



ZURICH. 433 

called constqffel, or the tribe of nobles, although, it was not absolutely confined to 
persons of that description : it enjoyed the privilege of giving eighteen members to the 
sovereign council, and six to the senate, whereas each of the other tribes only supplied 
twelve to the former and six to the latter. 

The legislative authority was vested by the burghers ra the sovereign council of two 
hundred, consisting, however, of two hundred and twelve members drawn from the 
thirteen tribes, and comprising the senate or little council. This senate, composed of 
fifty members, including the two bui-gomasters, had jurisdiction in all causes civil and 
crimiual ; in the former, when the demand was of a certain importance, an appeal could 
be made to the council of two hundred ; but in criminal affairs their sentence was final, 
and, when once passed, there was no possibility of obtaining any reversal or mitigation. 

The canton of Zurich was divided into districts or bailliages, which are governed 
by bailiifs nominated by the sovereign council. These bailiffs, excepting those of 
Kyburgh and Groningen, coxdd not pass capital sentence or order torture. They could 
arrest and interrogate the delinquent, and punish small misdemeanours by whipping or 
banishment from the bailliage. In capital cases they examined, made out the verbal 
process, and sent the felon to Zurich for further trial. 

Zurich is one of seven cantons in which aristocratic privileges had been enjoyed for 
many centuries by the principal town of the respective canton, or in some instances by a 
particular or patrician class of the inhabitants of the head town. The others were Berne, 
Freyburg, Soleure, Lucerne, Bale, and Schaffhausen. All these were originally, as it 
has been ali-eady seen, free imperial towns and places of refuge in the middle ages against 
feudal oppression. We have observed also how, after the declaration of independence 
by the three Waldstatten or forest cantons, these imperial towns, one after the other, 
renounced their allegiance to the empire and joined the confederation. In their new 
condition of sovereign independent states, their municipal administration continued to 
form the basis of their constitution ; and thus the trades or corporations in one town, or 
the patrician families in another, furnished the members to the legislative and executive 
councils. The country districts, being mostly conquered or purchased from the neigh- 
bouring barons, transferred their allegiance to their new masters of the towns, and they 
were .decidedly gainers by the exchange. But as, in the course of ages, the country 
districts grew in wealth, population, and industry, and villages became flourishing little 
towns, the inhabitants began to mui-mur at the exclusive privileges of the cities. This 
led to tumults and insurrections, and this feeling of discord mainly contributed to the 
catastrophe of 1798. By the act of mediation of 1803, all exclusive privileges were 
abolished, but the qualifications required of candidates for seats in the councils, joined to 
the duration for life of the office of councillor, secured a considerable influence to men of 
property and of old families. In 1814 the towns, or at least a party in each of them, 
strove to assimie their former authority over the country, but owing to the resistance 
they met with, and still more, perhaps, to the conciliatory suggestions of the foreign 
ministers, a compromise was entered into, and the towns agreed that the country districts 
of each canton should return about one-third of the members of the legislature. All 
monopolies, which formerly fettered trade and industry, had been abolished, and were 
not revived. The towns acknowledged the principle of political rights being common to 
all classes in the state, but at the same time, by retaining the majority of the seats in the 
coimcils for themselves, they were enabled to legislate for the rest of the country, and 
often in spite of it, and they, likewise, retained the disposal of offices and emoluments in 
their own hands. The town of Zurich, for instance, returned 130 members to the great 
council, and the rest of the canton eighty-two. The town of Bale returned ninety 
members out of 154. That of Schafihausen, forty-eight out of seventy-four. Berne, 
200 out of 299. Lucerne, 50 out of 100. Soleure, 68 out of 101. Freyburg, 108 out 

2 F 



434 SWITZEELAKD. 

of 144. In tHis last canton alone an aristocracy of patrician families was recognised by 
tlie law, and the members for tbe capital were to be selected from among those families. 
In all other cantons there was no aristocracy dejnre, but all the citizens were admissible 
into the councils. So far the constitutions of 1814, mth the exception of that of 
Freybm-g, Tetained the principle of equality of rights as acknowledged by the act of 
mediation, but thfey circumscribed it materially in practice with regard to the country 
districts, and also by the mode of the elections. The qualifications for members were 
likewise considerably high. Still the constitutions of 1814 were more equitable in their 
principle, in all the town cantons, not excepting Freyburg, than the former exclusive 
ones which had existed previously to 1798. 

Towards the end of 1830, the councils of Aargau and Vaud, after some popula 
tumults, which, however, were imattended by bloodshed, were obliged by the public 
voice to appoint commissions in order to frame a new constitution ; and this was done on 
a basis similar to that of the Ticino. Thurgau and St. Gall did the same, but in a more 
quiet and conciliatory spirit. In the old aristocratic or town cantons, the opposition was 
stronger. The struggle was not only, as of old, for an equality of rights between town 
and country, but the towns Avere also divided within themselves, many of the citizens 
wishing foV a system of dii-ect elections, and a more general distribution of offices. At 
Zurich, a petition for the coimtry districts was addressed to the burgomaster or chief 
magistrate, demanding a revision of the constitution, for the sake of a more equal 
distribution of rights between town and country. After much debate in the great 
council, a committee was appointed, which framed a new plan of elections, by which the 
country should return two-thirds of the members and the town of Zurich one-third. It 
was argued that, although the town did not constitvite more than one-thii-teenth of the 
population of the whole canton, yet, in consideration of its superior wealth and industry, 
the large share it bore of the public taxes, of its public institutions and benevolent 
institutions, and lastty, of its decided superiority in intelligence and instruction, it ought, 
in justice to itself, as well as for the general advantage of the country, to have a 
preponderant share of the representation, without regard to the mere calcidation of 
numerical proportion. To this the country people agreed, and the same principle was also 
adopted in the new constitutions of some other cantons, such as Lucerne, Bale, and 
Schaif hausen. It , was not thought prudent to leave the towns, in which most of the 
wealth and resources of the state were centred, entirely at the mercy of the country 
people, whose ignorance, jealousy, and recollection of former grievances, might be easily 
inflamed by designing men, and might break, into measures of violence, by which the 
property and the very existence of the towns might be endangered. 

The lake of Zurich is nearly ten leagues in length, and one in breadth. This body of 
water is of an oblong form, and not near so large as that of Constance ; but the borders 
are studded more thickly with villages and towns. The adjacent country is finely 
cultivated and well peopled ; and the southern part of the lake appears bounded with the 
high stupendous mountains of Schwitz and Glarus : the scenery is picturesque, lively, and 
diversified. 

The city of Zurich stands at the northern extremity of the lake, and occupies both 
sides of the rapid and transparent Limmat. Its environs are extremely delightful ; an 
amphitheatre of hills gradually sloping to the borders of the waters, enriched -with 
pastures and vines, dotted with innumerable villas, cottages, and hamlets, and backed on 
the west by the Utliberg, a bold and gloomy ridge stretching towards the Albis, and that 
chain of mountains which rises gradually to the Alps. 

The town is divided into two parts ; the old part, surrounded with the same ancient 
battlements and towers which existed in the thirteenth century ; and the suburbs, which 
are strengthened by fortifications in the modern style, but too extensive. The ditches, 



ZURICH. 435 

instead of being- iilled with stagnant water, are mostly supplied with, running streams. 
The public walk is pleasantly situated in a lawn, at the jimction of the Limmat and the 
Sil, an impetuous and turbid torrent, which descends from the moimtains of Einsidlin ; 
two rows of lime-trees planted by the side of the Limmat, and following its serpentine 
direction, afford an agreeable shade in the heat of summer. The inliabitants are very 
industrious, and carry on with success several manufactures : the principal are those of 
linens and cottons, muslins, and silk handkerchiefs. The manufacturers do not in general 
dwell within the walls, but the materials are mostly prepared and the work is completed 
ii^ the adjacent districts. For this reason Zurich does not exhibit the activity and 
numbers of a great commercial city. The environs, on the contrary, are so extremely 
popidous, that perhaps few districts in the neighbourhood of a town, whose population 
scarcely exceeds ten thousand inhabitants, contain -within so small a compass so many 
souls. The streets are mostly narrow ; the houses and public buildings accord more with 
plainness and convenience than with the elegance and splendour of a capital. 

This city, as we have seen, became conspicuous in the history of the Reformation. In 
1522, Zwingle published a tract, " On the Observation of Lent." This was his first 
work, and greatly did it irritate the Romanist party. He therefore caused an assembly 
to be convened by the senate of Zmich, for the purpose of adjusting existing differences. 
It took place on the 29th of January, 1523. He stated the doctrines he held in thirty- 
seven propositions, fidly persuaded that they were agreeable to the gospel of Christ. At 
the close of the consultation, the assembly passed an edict greatly in favour of Zwingle. 
After its publication, his doctrine became general throughout the whole canton of Zurich, 
xmder the name of evangelical truth. 

Determined to introduce it into Switzerland generally, he induced the senate to call a 
new assembly. It was convened on the 26th of October, 1523, and various discussions 
took place. One resolution of the conference was, that no images were to be allowed 
among Christians. In the next conference, the parties assembled discussed the mass. 
Zwiugle maintained it was no sacrifice, and a decision to that effect was accordingly 
passed. These conclusions were not, however, received throughout Switzerland ; the 
cantons of Berne, Glarus, Bale, Schaffhausen, and Appenzell, refused to admit them. 
Meamvhile, Zwingle wrote several books in defence of his doctrines, and they were 
•making progress in various directions. 

The public library at Zurich contains about 25,000 volumes, and a few curious manu- 
scripts. Among the latter is the original manuscript of Quintillian, that was foimd in 
the library of St. Grail, and from which the first edition of that gi'eat rhetorician was 
printed. The Psalms in the Greek tongue, written on parchment dyed of a violet 
colour, is also there. The letters are silver, excepting the initials, which are in golden 
characters, ' and the marginal references, which are red. It is similar to the celebrated 
Codex Argenteus in the library of Upsala. It is- supposed to have once formed part of the 
Codex Vaticamis, preserved in the Yatican library at Rome, as both of these manuscripts 
are similar, and the Roman volume is deficient in the Psalms. The learned Breitiuger 
has published a dissertation on this codex. 

There are also several manuscripts of Zwingle, which prove the indefatigable industry of 
that celebrated reformer. Among these is his Latin Commentary on Genesis and Isaiah, 
and a copy of St. Paul's epistles from the Greek Testament, published by Erasmus. At the 
end is written an inscription in the Greek tongue, signifying,^" Copied by Ulric Zwingle, 
1415." It was presented to the public Kbrary by Ann Zwingle, the last survivor of his 
illustrious race. There are also three Latia letters from Lady Jane Grey to Bullinger, 
in 1551, 1552, and 1553. These letters, wi'itten with her own hand, breathe a spirit of 
the most unaffected piety, and prove the extraordinary progress which this unfortunate 
and accomplished princess, though only in the sixteenth year of her age, had made ia 

2f 3 



43G SWITZEKIAND. 

various branches of literature. The Grreek and Hebrew quotations show that she was 
well acquainted with those languages. This library is rich in the best editions of the 
classics ; and particularly in the early impressions of the fifteenth century. 

The library of the cathedral belonging to the Caroline College contains several marni- 
scripts of the reformers Bullinger, Pelican, Bibliander, and Leon Juda ; particularly the 
translation of the Talmud by Pelican and Bibliander, which has never been printed ; also 
sixty volumes of letters from Zwingle and the early reformers, with a complete index. 
This collection, so interesting to ecclesiastical . history, was formed by Henry Hottinger, 
the learned author of the " History of the Reformation," renowned for his extensive 
erudition, and particularly for his profound skill in oriental literature. The librarian 
pointed out an ancient manuscript of the Latin Vidgate, called Codex Carolinus, and 
supposed to have been a present from Charlemagne ; but without foimdation, for it is 
certainly of much later date, probably of the eleventh century. Among the rare books 
is the Latin Bible, translated by Pelican, Bibliander, and Leon Juda, printed at Zurich 
in 1545. 

" Zurich," says Coxe, " notwithstanding its five centuries of literary illustration, has 
not made much progress in its judiciary administration, of which, being purely arbitrary, 
it is not very easy to give an account. The proceedings are carried on in secret, without 
any check as to the extent of the punishment inflicted but the conscience of the judge, 
or, what is worse still, a company of judges. The yoimgest judge inquires into the case 
and reports on it ; his decision, upon Avhich the rank of the prisoner, his connexions, and 
the solicitations of his friends, are not without their influence, is generally adopted. 
Corruption here is never A'enal, and this is the most j^ou can say in favour of their 
administration of justice. 

" The torture (flogging) was till very lately applied ad libitum, to extort the confession 
of the prisoner, which was deemed necessary to convict him ; but, in consequence of a 
late law passed in council, a special order of the court is now required in each particular 
case, prescribing the number of lashes ! It certainly seems very strange in this age to 
see a repubKc, first in rank in the Helvetic body, and deemed the Athens of Switzerland, 
passing laws for regulating the torture ! They are sensible of the abuse it is liable to, 
since they wish to limit the extent of it, yet do not see that the whole system is a gross 
abuse, as absurd as it is barbarous. During the French occupation of Switzerland, the- 
administration of justice was subjected to a criminal code, from which the torture was 
excluded ; but when, in 1802, under the mediation of Buonaparte, protector of the 
Helvetic league, the restoration of the federal government took place, all the old abuses 
were carefully reinstated along with it, the mediator being well aware, that with the 
/ja^e;-««^ government so constituted, he could do what he pleased with the /«w«7y. The 
administration of justice in France, with all its imperfections, is much superior to that of 
most of the Swiss cantons. In Italy, the people talk with admiration of the Justizia 
Francese, as infinitely superior to their own : it is all comparative." 

The spirit of the citizens of Zurich is, however, displayed throughout the history of their 
canton. A great aptitude for business, an activity carried at some times to restlessness, a 
love of independence, a mercantile spirit not free from cupidity, a bravery often excited to 
rashness, a love of instruction with a tendency to cavilling, and liberality without profusion, 
have been pointed out as the qualities most conspicuous in their character. More open, 
frank independence, and more liberality of sentiment, are apparent at Zurich than in any 
other of the large towns of Switzerland. Its magistrates were respected for their integ- 
rity and justice, and the other cantons paid a willing deference to their opinion in those 
matters which concerned the whole confederation. In their domestic dissensions and 
foreign disputes there have ever been found a vitality and energy in their public spirit 
which has repeatedly rescued them from destruction when they seemed to be tottering 



LAVATER BODMER. 437 

on its very verge. Arts, sciences, and letters have also found more encouragement at 
Zurict tlian in any other town of Switzerland. 

Agriculture is perhaps better cultivated in this than in most other parts of Switzerland ; 
manuring is well understood, and irrigation is successfully practised. " Anywhere in the 
neighbourhood of Zurich," says Inglis, " one is struck with the extraordinary industry of 
the inhabitants, and if we learn that a proprietor here has a return of ten per cent., we 
are inclined to say ' he deserves it.' It is impossible to look at a field, a garden, a hedge, 
scarcely even a tree or a flower, without perceiving proofs of the extreme care and 
industry that are bestowed on the cultivation of the soil. If, for example, a path leads 
through or by the side of a field of grain, the corn is not, as in England, permitted to lie 
over the path, but is everywhere boiinded by a fence. If you look into a field towards 
evening, where there are large beds of caidiflower or cabbage, j^ou will find that every 
single plant has been watered. In the gardens, which around Zurich are extremely large, 
the most punctilious care is evinced in regard to the culture of every product." 

" I have seldom entered a rural dweUing," says Dr. Bowring, " without finding one or 
more looms in it employed in the weaving of silk or cotton. If the labours of the field 
demand the hands of the peasant, his wife or children are occupied in manufacturing 
iudustry. When lighter toils suffice for the agricultural part of the family exertions, the 
females and the young people resign the loom to the father or the brothers. The inter- 
stices of agricultural labour are filled up by manufacturing emplojonent ; and in more 
than half of the operations of Zurich the farmer and the weaver are united." 

Zurich is still called the Athens of German Switzerland. Science and literature 
have been cultivated in that city for ages, and many valuable works have issued from its 
presses. Of one of its most celebrated men, Coxe has left the following record : — 

" I did not omit waiting upon Solomon Gesner, the celebrated author of the death of 
Abel, and of several idyls, which for their delicate and elegant simplicity are justly 
esteemed. They abound with those nice touches of exquisite sensibiKty which discover 
a mind warmed with the finest sentiments ; and love is represented in the chastest 
colouring of innocence, virtue, and benevolence. Nor has he confined his subjects 
merety to the tender passion ; paternal afiection, and filial reverence, gratitude, 
humanity, in short every moral dutj^ is exhibited and -inculcated in the most pleasing 
and affecting manner. He has for some time renounced poetry, in order to assume the 
pencil ; and painting is at present his favourite amusement. A treatise which he has 
published on landscapes discovers the elegance of his taste and the versatility of his 
genius ; while his compositions in both kinds prove the resemblance of the two arts, and 
that the conceptions of the poet and the painter are congenial. His drawings in black and 
white are preferable to his paintings ; for, although the ideas in both are equally 
beautiful or sublime, the colouring is inferior to the design. He has published a 
handsome edition of his Avritiags in quarto, in which every part of the work is carried on 
hj himself; he prints them at his own press, and is at once both the drawer and 
engraver of the plates. It is to be lamented that he has renoimced poetry ; for, while 
ordinary writers spring up in great plenty, authors of real genius are rare and uncom.mon. 
His drawings are seen only by a few ; but his writings are dispersed abroad, translatied 
into everjr language, and will be admired by future ages, as long as there remains a 
relish for true pastoral simplicitj^, or taste for original composition. He is plain in his 
manners, open, affable, and obliging in his address, and of singular modesty." 
Another sketch from the same pen is not a little amusing : — 

" I called upon Mr. Lavater, a clergj^man at Zurich, and celebrated physiognomist, 
who has published four large volumes in quarto upon that fanciful subject. That 
particular passions have a certain effect upon particular features, is evident to the most 
common observer ; and it may be conceived, that an habitual indulgence of th( 



438 SWITZEKLAOT). 

iaay possibly, in some cases, impress a distinguishing mark on the countenance ; but that 
a certain cast of features constantly denotes certain passions, and that by contemplating 
the countenance we can infallibly discover also the mental qualities, is an hypothesis 
liable to so many exceptions, as render it impossible to establish a general and imiform 
system. Nevertheless, Mr. Lavater, like a true enthusiast, carries his theory much 
further : for he not only pretends to discover the character and passions by the features, 
by the complexion, by the form of the head, and by the motion of the arms, but he 
also draws some inferences of the same kind even from the haud-wiiting. And indeed 
his system is formed upon such universal principles, that he applies the same rules to all 
animated nature, extending them, not only to brutes, but even to insects. That the temper 
of a horse may be discovered by its countenance, will not, perhaps, strilie you as absurd ; but 
did you ever hear before that any quality could be inferred from the physiognomy of a 
bee, an ant, or a cockchafer ? While I give my opinion thus freeljr concerning Mr. 
Lavater's notions, you will readily perceive that I am not one of those who are initiated 
into the mysteries of his art. 

" Mr. Lavater has not merely confined himself to physiognomy. He has composed 
sacred hymns and national songs, which are much esteemed for their simplicity. He has 
also given to the public numerous works on sacred subjects. I am concerned to add, 
that the ingenious axxthor extends to religion the same enthusiasm which he has employed 
in his researches on physiognomy, and in his poetical compositions ; the warmth of his 
imagination hurries him on to adopt whatever is most fanciful and extraordinary; to 
outstep the limits of sober reason ; to be an advocate for the efficacy of absolute faith ; 
for inward illuminations ; for supernatural visions ; and for the miraculous effects 
of what is called animal magnetlwi in the cure of disorders. 

" The insinuating address of Mr. Lavater, the vivacity of his conversation, the amenity 
of his manners, together with the singularity and animation of his style, have contributed 
more to diffuse his system and principles, than sound arguments or deep learning, which 
are not to be found in his lively but desultory compositions." 

Another name specially deserving remembrance is that of John Jacob Bodmer, a native 
of Zurich. The romantic character of the district in which he passed his early years 
impressed itself so forcibly on his memory, that in a letter written at the age of eighty, 
he paints it circumstantially and in lively colours. His father, finding that he had a 
strong reluctance to become a clergyman, and an equally strong love for literature, to 
which he does not appear to have been very favourably disposed, sent him, in 1718, 
to Greneva, and afterwards to Lugano, to learn the manufacture of silk. 

He now travelled to vai'ious parts of Italy, studied its poets, wrote sonnets, and 
convinced his employers that he would never make a merchant. It was not long, there- 
fore, before he returned home, where he spent the chief portion of his time in literarj^ 
pursuits. General literature was then at a very low ebb in Germany ; the learned wrote 
in Latin ; and the public were contented with spiritless, servile imitations of foreign 
models. Bodmer became ambitious of developing the natural genius and taste, and says, 
in wiiting to a friend, " I should like to improve the German taste, if possible ;" and 
according^, with Hagenbuch and Breitinger, he established a weekly periodical, the 
" Painter of Manners," a faithful imitation of " the Spectator," but, of course, without its 
polish. 

Some years after, Bodmer and Breitinger published at Leipsic and Frankfort a 
remarkable work, " On the influence and use of the Imagination towards the Improve- 
ment of Taste." In this, they distinguished the then fashionable bombast from true 
sublimity, censured the prevalent artificial and laboured stjde, condemned the pedantic 
and ridiculous use of foreign words, and recommended the classics and English writers as 
models, instead of the affectations of the Italian poets, who were then in favour with the 



BODMER. 339 

Germans. Their o-vm style was yet far from perfect, but the good sense of this appeal 
from the artificial to the natural was evident at once, and productive of important 
results. 

In 1725 Bodmer was appointed to the chair of history at Zurich ; he became, too, a 
partner in a printing and bookselling business, in which great projects were con- 
templated ; and also the author of a long series of works. They contain much that is 
valuable, but he did not accomplish as a poet all he supposed. It is amusing to read the 
following passage from one of his letters, written in hio seventy-eighth year : " In the 
bloom of mjr years poetry was not yet in existence. Then she stood on the isthmus of 
the Saturnine age. Hagedorn, Gleoin, Klopstock came, and with them the silver times ; 
then the spring of a golden period. No summer follows this spring. We are falling 
back into ii'on days, in which, however, it is true, mild and gently powerful rays break 
forth, like sunbeams in winter." Schlegel has compared the sensations produced by 
his poem of " Koah," which its author regarded with great complacencj^, to those felt 
by a person when travelling on a very rough road ia a carriage without springs. But 
to Bodmer the merit is due of pointing out to the Germans their forgotton treasures of 
national poetry, and of zealously -sdndicating the taste of the English classics against the 
frigidity of Gottsched. He held the professorship of history for fifty years, and resigned 
the chair to one of his most beloved pupils, Henry Fuessli. In Bodmer's correspondence 
mth Zellweger, Gulzer, and Schinz, there is a rich store of materials for the literary 
history of the time, and especially for that of the progress of theology and general 
science at Zuricli. 

The historj'- of Zurich, however, presents before us a galaxy of celebrated names, 
associated with the physical sciences, philosophical and political studies, history, philology, 
geographer, literature, poetry, music, and painting. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE LAKE OF WALLENSTADT — GLARUS — KLONTHAT. — THE BATHS OF PFEITERS— THE 
VIA MALA. 

The lake of Wallenstadt is about twelve miles in length and two in breadth ; it is 
entirely bounded hj high mountains, except to the east and west. From this situation 
a breeze generally blows from those two quarters, beginning at break of day, and 
continuing for some hours, then changes from west to east till sunset : this breeze is very 
convenient for the transportation of the merchandise. Sometimes, however, a violent 
north wind rushes down from the mountains, and renders the navigation dangerous. 
Terrible tales are told of the tempests on this lake, as indeed on all the lakes enclosed, as 
this is, by mountains ; government has, therefore, thought proper to interfere for the 
safety of ignorant or rash travellers, forbidding the boatmen to venture out at all under 
certain circumstances of weather, obliging them, in more dubious cases, to keep close 
along the southern shore, vrhere there are harbolirs, and allowing no boat to remain 
more than three years in use. The most dangerous is supposed to be the north wind, 
which, falling vertically, furrows the surface of the water into deep short waves that are 
said to suck in every floating thing. The lake is, however, seldom more than two miles 
across, so that sail where you will you cannot lose sight of either bank. 

The scenery of the lake is exceedingly wild and picturesqiie, and affords a perpetual 
variety of beautiful and romantic scenes. On the side of Glarus, the mountains, which 
form its borders, are chiefly cultivated, enriched with wood or fine meadows, and 
studded with cottages, churches, and small villages ; the Alps of Grlarus rising behind, 
their tops covered with snow. On the other side, for the most part, the rocks are 
grotesque, craggy, inaccessible, and perpendicular ; but here and there a few cultivated 
necks of land are formed at the very edge of the lake, and at the bottom of these very 
rocks, exhibiting a beautiful contrast to the barrenness above and around them. 
Numberless waterfalls, occasioned by the melting of the snows, fall down the sides of the 
mountains from a very considerable height, and with an almost inconceivable variety ; 
some of them seeming to glide gently in circular directions ; others forming vast 
torrents, and rushing into the lake with noise and violence ; all of them changing their 
form and their position as the traveller approaches or recedes from them. The lake is 
exceedingly clear, deep, and cold, and is said never to be frozen. 

This part of the country has always been subject to earthquakes. Thirty-three are on 
record as having happened in the seventeenth century, and eighty-seven in the 
eighteenth ; that is, thirty-seven between August, 1701, and February, 1702 ; fifty 
between September, 1763, and May, 1764 ; " but," says Ooxe, " the geological 
revoliitions, indicated by the general appearances of this district, are far beyond the 
power of common earthquakes, which are, indeed, more likely to have been an effect than 
a cause ; for the vast vacuities left between and among the fragments of the old earth's 



GLAUUS. 441 

crust, when they settled into their present positions, would naturally become so many 
gasometers, occasionally filling with an elastic fluid, the sudden expansion, rarefaction, 
or possibly inflammation of which now heaves, at times, their ponderous coverings, and 
communicates to the surface of our earth those undulations, denominated earthquakes, 
which spread terror and dismaj' among its inhabitants. 

" Geology is certainly no mean auxiliary of the picturesque, for imagination will ever 
follow with peculiar delight the traces of a former world. It is roused to mighty 
contemplation at the sight of piles and rocks, as high as the clouds, recumbent on a bed 
of fern, and at finding the remains of animals, that once sported on the summits of other 
Alps, now buried beneath the very base and fomidations of ours. In the course of our 
voyage, approaching sometimes the northern, but oftener the southern shore, ^Yhich is 
rent in several places from top to bottom, Ave happened to pass close by one of these 
great fissures. It was dark as night itself; invisible torrents roared down its precipices ; 
nothing human could climb their sides, or breathe in their eternal mist ; as the eye 




L4KF IN IKE 31.I.OMH4.L 

measured in wonder the fearful height, and dwelt on the heavenly softness of the 
moimtain verdure seen through the opening at the top, we could scarceljr believe our 
senses when we discovered peasants making hay quietly on the brink of such an abyss, 
thousands of feet above our head, on the northern shore of the lake, at the foot of its 
abrupt rampart, close to its tremendous cataracts, the greatest perhaps in Switzerland. 
On the very promontories of earth and stone, originally brought by them, we often 
descried a farm-house, with its grove of umbrageous walnuts, its meadows, and husband- 
men at their work. A nearer approach to what appeared a perpendicular wall of rocks, 
enabled us to detect some slight marks of a climbing path, where notched logs, or 
sticks driven into holes, or overhanging branches and withy ropes leading from one 
beetling shelf to another, showed that a strong hand and steady step left nothing 
inaccessible to the ingenuity and .perseverance of man. Enormous as the mountain 
appeared before, such points of comparison as these swelled its dimensions at once to an 
oppressive excess, from which the ej'^e turned with a sort of dread." 

The villagers of "Wallenstadt at the upper end of the lake, like those of Wesen on the 



442 SWITZERLAND. 

lower, have been boatmen and mule-drivers from time im.memorial, tinder the Roman 
prefects, under the Ostrogoths, the Huns, and the Saracens ; under Massena and the 
French army ; and are now at the service of all travellers. 

At so remote a j)eriod as the seventh century, a companion of Columba built a chapel 
consecrated to St. Hilarius, in a remote valley of the Alps, near the source of the Linth, 
which afterwards gave its name to the canton of Glarus, a corruption of Hilarius. The 
canton is, however, sometimes called Glarus. It was subseqiiently inhabited by serfs of 
the abbey of Seckingen, by strangers who farmed lands of the abbey, and a few free- 
holders. Twelve noble families were bound to military service for the abbey, thirty-four 
more paid a small fee. The mayor appointed by the abbey elected the judges, from 
whose sentences the appeal lay to the lady abbess, who was regarded as a mother by the 
people. Capital punishment coiild be inflicted only by the emperor, to whom two 
hundred livres were paid every year at Martinmas. The tenants paid fixed rents in 
proportion to the produce of their lands. The judicial fines also went to the abbey, and 
this was a great source of seignorial revenue. The mayorship of Glarus remained for 
three hundred years in the family of Tschudi, one of the most ancient in Switzerland, 
which has since given seventeen landammans to their canton, produced many warriors, 
and the oldest historian of the Helvetic confederacy. It is said by some, that the 
Tschudis were originally descended from a Scythian slave freed by the emperor Louis 
IV., who piiblicly took a denier from his hand as the price of his emancipation. The 
serfs of the sovereign were considered nearlj'- as equal to freemen. 

Albert, duke of Avistria, repaired to Brougg, in Aargau, in the month of Aixgust, 
1351, and there he assembled his forces. The city of Zurich sent a deputation to 
compliment him, and offer him presents. He received the deputies with apparent 
friendship, not manifesting his intention to them, except in as far as demanding the 
release of his relative. Count John of Hapsburg, who was kept prisoner in their town. 
But as soon as the deputies had left him, he assembled his bailifls and vassals, and 
imparted to them his intention of taking a signal vengeance on the people of Zurich. 
He then formally demanded of the Zurichers that thej'- should rebuild the town and 
castle of Rapperschwyl at their own expense, and restore the Marches, of which they 
had taken possession. Upon their refusal to comply with these conditions, he laid siege 
to Zurich with a considerable force. The Waldstatten ran to arms for the assistance of 
their new confederate. The duke of Austria, on his side, sumnaoned the people of 
Glarus for their contingent. The latter refused, saying that " they were tinder the 
protection of the empire, and subject to the abbej'- of Seckingen, and bound to take up 
arms in defence of these, but not for the private wars of the dukes of Austria." The 
didvC, however, in his qualitj'- of rogt or warden of the abbey, understood the matter 
otherwise. Besides he wished to " occupy the coimtry of Glarus, in order to check the 
people of Schwitz on that side, and prevent them from sending succour to Zurich. But 
the Schwitzers, anxious to secui-e their own frontiers, were beforehand with him ; they 
occupied the coimtry of Glarus in November of the same year, 1351, without striking a 
blow, and Glarus was received into the Swiss confederation, of which it formed the sixth 
canton. The people contiaued, however, with the honesty of the old Swiss, to pay 
their dues to the monastery of Seckingen until 1395, when the abbess allowed them 
to redeem themselves. 

The central portion of Glarus consists of the long narrow valley of Linth, into which 
there is but one road ; and of two small lateral valleys, to neither of- which there is any 
access except by the principal valley. The rest of the surface is mostly covered with 
mountains, belongiitg to different ranges, which in general rise higher than those in the 
neighbouring cantons. The Doediberg, at its southern extremity, the loftiest summit in 
eastern Switzerland, is 11,765 feet in height; the Glarnish is 9,630 feet, and the Wiggis 



THE VALLEY OF MOUOTTA. 443 

7,444 feet high. The Linth, its principal river, runs in a northern direction through 
the entire canton into the lake of "Wallenstadt, which forms a part of its northern boundary. 
Besides this and the lake of the Klonthal, there are many other smaU lakes in the 
mountains. Glaciers also are very numerous, and the scenery is very striking. 

Orchards of plum, pear, cherry, apricot, almond, and other trees, ai-e sufficiently 
plentiful, and, in some parts, the vine is cultivated, but very Kttle grain, or other agri- 
cultural produce, is obtained. The mountain sides supply line pasturage for sheep and 
goats. This canton is the peculiar seat of the manufactvire of Schabzieger, or green 
cheese. This is made of cows' milk, and not of goats', as its name might seem to imply. 
The peasants bring down from the mountains the curd in sacks. The cheese owes its 
peculiar appearance, smell, and flavoiu- to the blue pans}'. This herb is grown in small 
inclosures, beside most of the cottages ; it is then dried, ground into powder, and in 
this state thrown into the mill along with the curd, in the proportion of three pounds of 
one, to a hundred pounds of the other. After being turned for about two hours and a 
haK, the mixtiire is ready to be put into shapes, where it is kept until it dries sufficiently 
to be ready for use. 

The Mouottathal is a valley of Switzerland, situated in the canton of Schwitz ; it 
derives its name- from the river Mouotta, by which it is watered, and which flows into 
the lake of Lucerne, or the Waldstatter See, between three and iour miles, in a direct 
line to the westward of the town, or rather village, of Schwitz, the capital of the canton. 
The length of this valley is nine or ten miles, and its direction is pretty nearly from 
west to east. It has all the appearances of fertility, and its smiling landscape is set off" 
by the contrast of a stupendous rampart of mountains which screen it, though not too 
closely, on almost every side. Towards its eastern extremitjr is the village of Mouotta, a 
small collection of cottages, possessing a chiirch, which, for a long time, held the second 
rank in the canton, and used to be visited by numerous pilgrims from the neighbouriag 
territories of Uri and Unterwalden. The eastern boundary of this valley is the lofty 
mount Praghel, which stretches also along a portion of its northern side ; this mountain 
here forms the limit between the cantons of Schwitz and Grlarus, sloping down upon the 
side of the latter into the Klonthal, or valley of the Kttle river Klon. 

The entrance to this valley is between two and three miles from the town of Schwitz ; 
it begins near a little village bearing the name of Schonenbuch. The most direct com- 
munication between the towns of Schwitz and Grlarus, is by the Mouottathal ; the road 
passes through the whole length of the valley, then to the summit of the Praghel, and 
down its opposite slope into the Klonthal, traversing the whole length also of this latter 
valley, which extends to within a short distance of the Glarus. The difficulties of this 
route are very great ; the passage of the mountain is an especially arduous task. Simond 
crossed it, and performed the whole journej' between Grlarus and Schwitz : he speaks 
in strong terms of the labour which attended its accomplishment. A consider- 
able time was spent in the ascent of the Praghel, which rose from the Klonthal, 
" in all its pride, craggy, bare, and gray ;" the summit was deserted by all living 
creatures except the birds of prey, "now hovering over its precipices, while their keen 
glance explored every secret recess ; then gliding obliquely down on motionless wings, 
yet swift as thought, in pm'suit of some imperceptible object." The descent of the 
opposite slope, towards the close of the Mouotta, is by a very steep wiuding path, or 
rather succession of slippery steps coarsely cut into the rock ; down this precarious way, 
horses and mules, laden with a weight of more than two himdred pounds, will manage to 
find a passage, often with their hind feet above the level of their ears, and occasionally, 
indeed, placed in such situations as to need the driver to assist them, and hold them back 
by the tail. 

Coxe mentions, in reference to this valley, a curious circumstance which was commu- 



444 SWITZERLAND. 

nicated to Mm by General PfyflPer, tlie same patient ingenious old man, whose model in 
relief of a large portion of Switzerland we described in a notice of the town of Lucerne- 
As a proof of the astonishing confidence mutually entertained by the inhabitants, the 
General pointed out to him, " on each side of the road that runs through the valley of 
Mouotta, in the canton of Schwitz, several ranges of small shops, uninhabited, yet filled 
with various goods, of which the j)rices are.marked ; any passenger who wishes to become 
a purchaser, enters the shop, takes away the merchandise, and deposits the price, which 
the owners call for in the evening." We find no mention of this very comfortable mode 
of doing business in more recent writers ; it passed away, probably, with those days of 
pastoral simplicity in which alone it could prevail, and which certainly did exist at no 
very remote period in some of the more retired among the Swiss valleys. 

This valley, however, deiives its chief interest from the sanguinary scenes of which it 
was the theatre at the close of the last centurj^ ; like many other parts of Switzerland, 
till that time as little known, its peaceful retirement was then rudely disturbed by the 
fierce encounter of hostile armies. At the close of the year 1798, the ancient govern- 
ment of the Swiss was no longer in existence, and their territory was in the hands of the 
republican soldiers of France. Soon afterwards war was renewed between the French 
and Austrians ; and the latter having gained the decisive victory of Stockach, in Suabia, 
on the 21st of March, 1799, passed on to the westward, and entered Switzerland in 
force, with the intention of following up their success and expelling their enemies from 
that country. Its poor inhabitants suffered severely in the struggle which ensued ; their 
inclination in general led them to support the Austrians, but many were compelled by 
the French to take up arms against them. To use the words of a national . historian, 
Zscholvke, " Swiss fought against S^viss, under the banners both of Austria and France ; 
tumults and revolts, sometimes occasioned by carrying into effect the act of conscription, 
sometimes from the desire of favouring the Austrian arms, prevailed in every direction. 
In the mean time, in the valleys in the highest Alps, and on the shores of the lakes, the 
din of foreign arms was heard ; one field of battle was left reeking close to another, and 
men and horses were seen traversing moimtain ridges known hitherto only to the 
chamois hunter. ISTeA^er, since the occupation of the country by the Romans, the 
Allemanni, and Burgundians, had Switzerland experienced such overwhelming misery." 

The success of the contending armies was varied; the Grison country, and that 
mountain chain which includes the sources of the Rhine, were successively lost and won 
by both. In the month of June the Austrians, everywhere victorious, had advanced on 
the south to the pass of St. Gothard, and on the north to the toAvn of Zurich and the 
borders of the Rhine. By the middle of August they were again driven back on the 
southern part of their line ; and the French remained undisputed masters of the St. 
Gothard, and of nearly the whole of the cantons of Schwitz and TJri. The Mouottathal 
was one of the districts from which the Austrians were thus expelled, and their efforts to 
retain it were among the most strenuous which they displaj^ed. They took post on the 
bridge at the village Mouotta, and bravely repixlsed the body of French troops sent to 
attack them by the right hand of the river ; of course when a second came up along the 
left bank, and placed them between two fires, they could hold their station no longer. 
Soon afterwards the mass of the Austrian forces quitted Switzerland, with the Archduke 
Charles, to take the field in Germany ; their place was supplied by 30,000 Russians, who 
succeeded to the position which they had occupied in the town of Zurich, on the northern 
border of the lake of that name, and on the northern bank of the river Limmat. General 
Hotze, with the remainder of the Austrian force, 29,000 men, continued the line to the 
south, on the banks of the Linth. Immediately to the westward were the French under 
their able leader, Massena ; their principal strength was gathered upon the Albis, and 
upon the high ground whence they could watch their opponents about Zurich. 



THE VALLEY OF MOTJOTTA. 445 

For more than three weeks after the change had been eflfected, both armies remained 
in a state of inactivitj^; but, in the meanwhile, the allies had been occupied in the 
formation of a project, which they fondly hoped would lead to the expulsion, if not the 
annihilation, of the French forde. The famous Suwarrow, the conqueror of the Poles and 
the Turks, was then, with nearly 30,000 Russians, in the north of Italy, where he 
had been reaping fresh laurels from his successes against the French ; if he could be 
brought with his veteran troops into Switzerland, it was thought that the most sanguine 
results might fairly be anticipated. Accordingly it was arranged that he should cross 
the Alps by the pass of the St. Gothard, and march at once northward into Massena's 
rear ; the troops in his front were to remain quiet until this manoeuvre was executed, 
when the French would find themselves placed between two armies. 

Suwarrow forced the St. Gothard, as already described, on the 24th of September, 
driving before him the French troops, who attempted to obstruct his passage ; he 
arrived on the 26th at Altorf, and finding the banks of the Lucerne, or Waldstatten 
lake, to be impracticable, he boldly determined to force his way across the mountains into 
the valley of the Mouotta, which Avould lead him to the heart of the canton of Schwitz. 
There was no known route by which he could traverse the intervening tract of country ; 
but the bold Russian was not to be deterred, and he resolved to explore one. He first 
penetrated through the Schachenthal, then through the Kientzigthal ; next he crossed 
the mountain called the Kientzighoulm, and descended into a narrow valley, or rather 
water-course, which led him rato the Mouottathal, through the opening which lies 
opposite to the village of the Mouotta. 

Suwarrow reached the village of Mouatta with the main body of his army, on the 
27th of September ; and bitter must have been his mortification then, to learn that all 
his combinations had been ruined ; that Massena, well appiised of the project of getting 
into his rear, had put 50,000 troops into motion on the very day the St. Gothard was 
forced, and attacked the armies in his front ; that Hotze was killed, and his successor 
Petrarch in full flight to the Rhine ; and that Korsakau, leaving Zurich, had been 
defeated in a murderous conflict, and was also retreating in the direction of that river. 
The defeat of this latter General was indeed complete, thousands of his Russians being 
slain ; and so unexpected was it, that Massena and his staff are said to have sat down to 
a sumptuous dinner which had been prepared in Zurich at the house of the British 
minister, to celebrate the passage of the Alps by Suwarrow. Yet, in sjpite of this bad 
news, the boldness and energy of Suwarrow did not forsake him ; he wrote to Korsakau 
and his generals, that they should answer with their heads for every further step that 
they retreated ; — " I am coming," he said, " to repair your faults." He marched quickly 
towards the opening of the Mouottathal with the intent of passing round towards the 
east, and doing something to retrieve the posture of afi'airs ; but his active enemies met 
him at its very mouth, not far from the town of Schwitz. 

A desperate battle ensued; the carnage was terrible, and the torrent was encumbered 
for several days with the bodies of the dead of both nations. The guide who ionducted 
Simond to the top of the Mount Righi, gave him, as we have seen, an animating description 
of these conflicts ; from that summit, the entrance to the Mouottathal, " a narrow gorge 
between high mountains, with a torrent issuing out of it," was distinctly visible. " The 
bridge was," he says, " taken and retaken many times ; the mingled blood of the two nations 
crimsoned the stream which carried down their floating bodies." Suwarrow strove hard, 
and was very near forcing his way ; at length he desisted, and turning round, sought a 
passage flby the difiicult route we have already described over the Praghel to Glarus, 
harassed all the while by his enemies, who kept his rear continually flghting. When he 
reached the outlet of the valley of Glarus, he found it already occupied bjr the French ; 
and having, therefore, explored another mountain route, he managed to reach the town 



44 b SWITZERLAND. 

of Coire ia the Grrisons, on the 4th of October, having lost one-fourth of his numbers in 
the eleven days which he had spent in marching and fighting since his departure 
from Italy. 

The inhabitants of the Mouottathal were grievously injiired by this war ; Ebel tells us 
that at the commencement of the year 1800, between six and seven hundred of them — 
that is, three-fourths of their whole number — were reduced to such a state of indigence 
as to be obliged to inscribe their names on the list of the poor. The same was the case 
with one-fourth of the remaining population of the canton, so completely had its 
prosperity, "the work of 500 years of peace," been destroyed in two short years of 
warfare. Many resorted to emigration ; and hundreds of children were dispersed into 
other parts of Switzerland, there to find the shelter of which they had been deprived in 
their native valleys. Yet all this misery has now passed aAvay. " Time," says Siinond, 
" and patient industry, have_ efliaced all traces of calamities seemingly so recent, and 
Schwitz appears at jaresent one of the most prosperous of the Swiss cantons." 

"Among the strange places," says Dr. James Johnson, "into which man has penetrated 
in search of treasure or health, there is probably not one on this earth, or under it, more 
wonderful than the baths of Pfefiers, situated in the coimtry of the Grisons, a few miles 
distant from the Spulgen road, as it leads from Wallenstadt to Coire. They are little 
linown to, and still less frequented by the English ; for we could not learn that any of 
our countrymen had visited them during the summer of 1834. 

" Having procured five smaU and steady horses accustomed to the locality, a party of 
three ladies and two gentlemen started from the Httle town of Ragatz on a beautiful 
morning in August, and commenced a steep and zig-zag ascent up the mountain, through 
a forest of majestic pines and other trees. In a quarter of an hour, we heard the roar of 
a torrent, but could see nothing of itself or even its bed. The path, however, soon 
approached the verge of a dark and tremendous ravine, the sides of which were composed 
of perpendicular rocks several hundred feet high, and at the bottom of which the 
Tamina, a rapid mountain torrent, foamed along in its course to the valley of Sargans, 
there to fall into the Upper Rhine. The stream itself, however, was far beyond our 
view, and was only known by its hollow and distant murmurs. The ascent, for the first 
three miles, is extremely fatiguing, so that the horses were obliged to take breath 
every ten minutes. The narrow path (for it is only a kind of mule-track) often 
winded along the very brink of the precipice, on our left, yet the eye could not 
penetrate to the bottom of the abyss. After more than an hour of toilsome climbing, 
we emerged from the wood, and found ourselves in one of the most picturesque 
and romantic spots that can well be imagined. The road now meanders horizon- 
tally through a high, but cultivated region, towards the village of Valentz, through 
fields, gardens, vineyards, and meadows, studded with chaumiers and chalets perched 
fantastically on projecting ledges of rock, or sheltered from the winds by tall and 
verdant pines. The prospect from Valentz, or rather from above the village, is one 
of the most beautiful and splendid I have anywhere seen in Switzerland. "We 
are there at a sufficient distance from the horrid ravine, to contemplate it without 
terror, and listen to the roaring torrent, thimdering unseen, along its rugged and 
precipitous bed. Beyond the ravine we see the monastery and village of Pfefiers, 
perched on a high and apparently inaccessible promontory, over which rise Alpine 
mountains, their sides covered with woods, their summits with snow, and their gorges 
glittering with glaciers. But it is towards the east that the prospect is most magnificent 
and varied. The eye ranges, with equal pleasure and astonishment, over the Valley of 
Sargans, through which rolls the infant Rhine, and beyond which the majestic ranges of 
the Rhetian Alps, ten thousand feet high, rise one over the other, till their summits 
mingle with the clouds. Among these ranges the Scesa-plana, the Angstenberg, the Flesch 



THE BATHS OF PFEFFERS. 447 

(like a gigantic pyramid), and in tlie distance tlie Alps that tower roiuid Feldkirck are 
the most prominent features. During our journey to the baths, the morning sun played 
on the snowy summits of the distant mountains, and marked their forms on the blue 
expanse behind them, in the most distract outluies. But, on our return, in the afternoon, 
when the fleecy clouds had assembled, in fantastic groups, along the lofty barrier, the 
reflexions and refractions of the solar beams threw a splendid cro^vn of glory round the 
icy heads of the Rhetian Alps — changing that "cold sublimity" with which the 
morning atmosphere had invested them, into a glow of illumination which no pen or 
pencil could portraJ^ To enjoy the widest possible range of this matchless prospect, the 
tourist must climb the peaks that overhang the village, when his eye may wander over 
the whole of the Grrison Alps and valleys, even to the lake of Constance. 

" From Valentz we tiu-ned abruptly down towards the ravine, at the very bottom of 
which are the baths of Pfeffers. The descent is by a series of acute and precipitous 
tourniquets, requiriag great caution, as the horses themselves could hardly keep on their 
legs, even when eased of their riders. At length we found ourselves in the area of a vast 
edifice, resembling an overgrown factory, with a thousand windows, and sis or seven 
stories high. It is built on a ledge of rock that lies on the left banlc of the Tamina 
torrent, which chafes along its foundation. The precipice on the opposite side of the 
Tamina, and distant about fifty paces from the mansion, or rather hospital, rises five or six 
hundred feet, as perpendicular as a wall, keeping the edifice in perpetual shade, except 
for a few hours in the middle of the day. The left bank- of the ravine, on which the 
hospital stands, is less precipitous, as i* admits of a zig-zag path to and from the baths. 
The locale, altogether, of such an establishment, at the very bottom of a frightful ravine, 
and for ever chafed by a roaring torrent, is the most singularly wild and picturesque I 
had ever beheld ; but the wonders of Pfefl'ers are not yet even glanced at. 

" From the western extremity of this vast asylum of invalids, a narrow wooden bridge 
spans the Tamina, and by it we gain footing on a small platform of a rock on the 
opposite side. Here a remarkable phenomenon presents itself. The deep ravine, which 
had hitherto preserved a ^\idth of some 150 feet, contracts, all at once, into a narrow 
cleft or crevasse, of less than twenty feet, whose marble sides shoot up from the bed of the 
torrent, to a height of four or five himdred feet, not merely perpendicular, but actually 
inclining towards each other, so that, at their summits, they almost touch, thus leaving a 
narrow fissiu'e through which a faint glimmering of light descends, and just serves to 
render objects -Nasible within this gloomy cavern. Out of this recess the Tamina darts in 
a sheet of foam, and with a deafening noise reverberated from the rocks within and 
without the crevasse. On approaching the entrance, the eye penetrates along a majestic 
vista of marble walls in close approximation, and terminating in obsciu-ity, with a narrow 
waving line of sky above, and a roaring torrent below ! Along the southern wall of this 
sombre gorge, a fragile scaffold, of only two planks in breadth, is seen to run, suspended 
as it were in air, fifty feet above the torrent, and three or four himdred feet beneath the 
cre-sdce that admits air and light from heaven into the profound abyss. This frail and 
frightful foot-path is continued (-will it be believed ?) nearly a quarter of a mile into the 
marble womb of the mountain ! Its construction must have been a work of great 
diificidty and peril; for its transit cannot be made even bj^ the most ciu'ious and 
adventurous travellers, without fear and trembhng, amounting often to a sense of 
shuddering and horror. Along these two planks we crept or crawled, with faltering steps 
and palpitating hearts. It has been my fortune to visit most of the wonderful localities 
• of this globe, but an equal to this I never beheld. 

" ' Imagination,' says an intelligent traveller, ' the most vivid, could not portray the 
portals of Tartarus under forms more hideous than those which natm-e has displayed in 
this place. We enter this gorge on a bridge of planks (pont de planches) sustained by 



448 



SWITZERIiAND. 



wedges driTen into the rocks. It takes a quarter of an hour or more to traverse this 
bridge, and it requires the utmost precaution. It is suspended over the Tamina, which 




is heard roUing fui-iously at a great depth beneath. The oralis of this cavern, tmsted, 
torn, and split (les pnrois laterales contourneeSi fendues, et dechirees) in various ways, 
rise perpendicular, and even incline towards each other, in the form of a dome ; whilst 



450 

the faint light that enters from the portal at the end, and the crevice above, 
diminishes as we proceed ; — the cold and humidity augmenting the horror produced by 
the scene. The fragments of rock sometimes overhang this gangway in such a manner 
that the passenger cannot walk upright : — at others, the marble wall recedes- so much, 
that he is unable to lean against it for support. The igcaifold is narrow, often slippery ; 
and sometimes there is but a single plank, separating us from the black abyss of the 
Tamina. He who has cool courage, a steady eye, and a firm step, ought to attempt 
this formidable excursion (epouvantable excursion) in clear and dry weather, lest he 
■ should find the planks wet and slippery. He shoidd start in the middle of the daj', 
with a slow and measured step, and without a stick. The safest plan is to have two 
guides supporting a pole, on the inside of which the stranger is to walk." 

" We neglected this precaution, and four out of the five pushed on, even without a 
guide at all. At forty or fifty paces from the entrance the gloom increases, whUe the roar 
of the torrent beneath, reverberated from the sides of the cavern, augments the sense of 
danger and the horror of the scene. The meridian sim penetrated suiRciently through the 
narrow line of fissure at the summit of the dome to throw a variety of lights and of 
shadows over the vast masses of variegated marble composing the walls of this stupendous 
cavern, compared with which those of Salsette, Elephanta, and even Staffa, shrink into 
insignificance. A wooden pipe, which conveys the hot waters from their source to the 
baths, runs along in the angle between the scaifold and the rocks, and proves very 
serviceable, both as a support for one hand while pacing the plank, and as a seat, when 
the passenger wishes to rest, and contemplate the wonders of the cavern. At about 
one-third of the distance inward, I would advise the tourist to halt, and survey the 
singular locality in which he is placed. The inequality of breadth in the long chink that 
divides the dome above, admits the light in very difterent proportions, and presents 
objects in a variety of aspects. The first impression which occupies the mind is caused 
by the cavern itself, with reflections on the portentous convulsion of nature which split 
the marble rock in twain, and opened a gigantic aqueduct for the moimtain torrent. 

" After a few minutes' rumination on the action of subterranean fire, our attention 
is attracted to the slow but powerful operation of water on the solid parietes of this 
infernal grotto. "We plainly perceive that the boisterous torrent has, in the course of 
time, and especially when swelled by rains, caused wonderful changes both in its bed and 
its banks. I would direct the attention of the traveller to a remaikable excavation 
formed by the waters on the opposite side of the chasm, and in a part more sombre than 
usual, in consequence of a bridge that spans the crevice above, and leads to the Convent 
of Pfefliers. This natural grotto is hollowed out of the marble rock to the depth of thirty 
feet, being nearly forty feet in width, by twenty-six feet in height. It is difficult not to 
attribute it to art ; and, as the whole cavern constantly reminds us of the Tartarean 
Regions, this beautifully vaulted grotto seems to be fitted for the throne of Pluto and 
Proserpine — or, perhaps, for the tribunal of PJiadamanthus and his brothers of the 
Bench, while j)assing sentence on the ghosts that glide down this Acheron or Cocytiis— 
tor had the Tamina been known to the ancient poets, it would assuredly have been 
ranked as one of the rivers of Hell. 

" It is surprising that the author of the ' Voyage Pittoresque en Suisse,' and even Dr. 
EbeU, should have. been led into the monstrous error of imagining that the torrent of the 
Tamina had, in the course of ages, hollowed oiit of the marble rock this profound bed 
for itself. We might just as well suppose that the bed of the Mediterranean had been 
scooped out by the waters of the Hellespont, in their way from the Black Sea to the 
Atlantic. The mountain was rent by some convulsion of JSTature, and apparently from 
below upwards, as the breadth at the bed of the Tamina is far broader than the external 
crevice above." 



THE BATHS OF PFEFFEES. 



The doctor, having alluded to the spectral -phenomena res-ulting from a perspective 
view into the cavern, thus proceeds : — " The laws of the road being different on the 
Continent from those in Old England, my plan was to screw mj^self up into the smallest 
compass, close to the rock, and thus allow passengers to steal by without opposition. 
We found that comparatively few penetrated to the extremity of the cavern and the 
soiu'ce of the Thermte — the majority being frightened, or finding themselves incapable of 
bearing the sight of the rapid torrent under their feet, without any solid security against 
precipitation into the infernal gulf. To the honour of the English ladies, I must say 
that they explored the source of the waters with the most imdaunted courage, and 
without entertaining a thought of returning from a half-finished tour to the regions 
below. 

" Advancing stiU farther into the cavern, another phenonicnou presented itself, for 
which we were unable to accoimt at first. Every now and then Ave observed a gush of 
vapour or smoke (we could not tell which) issue from the farther extremity of the rock on 
the left, spreading itself over the walls of the cavern, and ascending towards the crevice 
in the dome. It looked like an explosion of steam ; but the roar of the torrent woidd have 
prevented us from hearing any noise, if such had occurred. We soon found, however, 
that it was occasioned by the rush of vapour from the cavern in which the thermal source 
is situated, everj' time the door was opened for the ingress or egress of visitors to and 
from this natural vapour-bath. At such moments the whole scene is so truly Tartarean, 
that had Virgil and Dante been acquainted with it, the)' need not have strained their 
imaginations in portraying the ideal abodes of fallen angels, infernal gods, and departed 
spirits, but painted a Hades from nature, with all the advantage of truth and reality in 
its favour. 

" Our ingress occupied nearly half an hoxir, when we found ourselves at the extremity of 
the parapet, on a jutting ledge of rock, and where the cavern assumed an unusually sombre 
complexion, in consequence of the cliffs actually uniting, or nearly so, at the summit of 
the dome. Here, too, the Tamina struggled, roared, and foamed through the narrow, 
dark, and rugged gorge with tremendous impetuosity and deafeniiag noise, the sounds 
being echoed and reverberated a thousand times by the fractured angles and projections 
of the cavern. We were now at the source of the ThermaD. Ascending some steps cut 
out of the rock, we came to a door, which opened, and instantly enveloped us in tepid 
steam. We entered a grotto in the solid marble, but of what dimensions we could fprm 
no estimate, since it was dark as midnight, and fuU of dense and fervid vapour. We 
were quickly in a universal perspiration. The guides hurried us forward into another 
grotto, still deeper in the rock, where the steam was suffocating, and where we exuded 
at every pore. It Avas as dark as pitch. An owl wordd not have been able to see an 
eagle within a foot of its saucer eyes. We were told to stoop and stretch out our hands. 
We did so, and immersed them in the boiling — or, at least, the gurgling — source of the 
Pfeffers. We even quaffed at this fountain of Hygeia." 

The conclusion of the adventure is thus described : " On emerging into the damp, 
gelid, and gloomy atmosphere of the cavern, everything appeared of a dazzling 
brightness after our short immersion in the Cimmerian darkness of the grotto. The 
transition of temperature was equally as abrupt as that of light. The vicissitude could 
have been little less than fifty or sixty degrees of Fahrenheit in one instant, with all the 
disadvantage of dripping garments ! It was like shifting the scene, with more than 
theatrical celerity, from the Black Hole of Calcutta to Fury Beach, or the snows of Nova 
Zembla. Some of the joarty, less experienced in the effects of travelling than myself, 
considered themselves destined to illustrate the well-known allegory of the discontented 
— and that they would inevitably carry away with them a large cargo of that which 
thousands come here aniiuallv to get rid of — rheumatism. I confess that I was not 

2 G 2 



S^VITZERLAND. 



without some misgivings myself on this point, seeing that we had neither the 
means of changing our clothes nor of drying them, except by the heat of our bodies 




TEUIOll OF THE A'lA MALA. 



in the mountain breeze. The Goddess of Health, however, who is nearly related to the 
Genius of Travelling, preserved us from all the bad consequences, thermomctrical and 
hygrometrioal, of these abrupt vicissitudes. 



BAIIIS OF PFEFfEES, 4o3 

" We retrograded along the narrow plank that suspended us over the profound abyss 
with caution, fear, and astonishment. The Tamina seemed to roar more loud and savage 
beneath us, as if incensed at our safe retreat. The sun had 'passed the meridian, and the 
gorge had assumed a far more lugubrious aspect than it wore on our entrance. The 
shivered rocks and splintered pinnacles that rose on each side of the torrent, in Gothic 




arches of altitude sublime, seemed to frown on our retreating footsteps — while the human 
figures that moved at a distance along the crazy plank, before and behind us, frequently 
lost their just proportions, and assumed the most grotesque and extraordinary shapes and 
dimensions, according to the degree of light admitted by the narrow fissure above, and 
the scarcely discernible aperture at the extremity of this wonderful gorge. The Tamina, 
meanwhile, did not fail to play its part in the gorgeous scene — astonishing the eye by the 



454 SWITZKBIAND. ^ 

rapidity of its movements, and astounding the ear by the vibrations of its echoes. It 
seemed to growl more furiously as we receded from the depths of the crevcoise. 

"At length we gained the portal, and, as the sun was still dartiag his bright rays into 
the deepest recesses of the ravine, glancing from the marble rocks, and glittering on the 
boiling torrent, the sudden transition from Cimmerian gloom to dazzling daylight 
appeared like enchantment. While crossing the trembling bridge, I looked back on a 
scene which can never be eradicated from my memory. It is the most singular and 
impressive I have ever beheld on this globe, and compared with which the Brimnens are 
' bubbles ' indeed !" 

So early as the year 1038 the thermal waters, which take their rise in a gorge of the 
Tamina, were known and appreciated, but so difficult and dangerous was access to them, 
that they were soon neglected, and indeed all remembrance of them passed away for two 
centuries. At the close of this period, it is said, a hunter, in chase of a raven's nest, — 
perhaps the Alpine crow, — saw the vapour oozing out of the abyss, and made known the 
discovery for the public welfare. But then enormous difficulties had to be encountered ; 
and tradition tells of the imminent perils of the first patients, and of their remaining 
exposed to the vapours, or actually immersed in the waters, for several days together. 
For two autumns more the danger of a visit was scarcety diminished, for the only access 
was through a perforated rock, coramimicating with the spring by rope-ladders. In 
1420, a wretched hovel was reared for the reception of invalids ; and about twenty years 
later, a bridge was constructed at the dizzy height of 540 feet above the channel of the 
Tamiua, but it was destroj^ed by fire in 1629, and never rebuilt. In 1704, a bath-house 
was erected, and after a slight notice of it, Mrs. Boddington* remarks : — 

"Behind rolls the stormy Tamina, hemmed in at one side by the dark bath-house and 
the impending clifls, while, on the other, a giant wall of perpendicular rock, starting up 
daringlj^, and shutting out the world — almost the light of heaven — closes up the scene. 
Our guide i^roposed -that we should visit the mineral springs that boil up from the depth 
of an awful cavern, several hundred paces from the bath-house. A bridge, thrown from 
rock to rock, crosses the flood, and a narrow ledge of planks, fixed, I know not how, 
against the side of the rock, and suspended over the fierce torrent, leads through a long 
dark chasm to the source. I ventured but a little way ; for, when I found myself on the 
terrifying shelf, without the slightest balustrade, and felt it slippery, from the continual 
spray, and saw nothing- between us and the yawning gulf, to which darkness, thickening 
at every step, gave increased horroi-, I made a few rapid reflections on foolhardiness, and 
retreated." 

About a league from the baths is the abbey of PfefFers ; which is approached by a 
natural bridge, and a path cut out of the rock, forming a ladder 250 feet in length. 
Situated exactly beside the source, on a wooden precipice, this passage discovers at its 
highest point a splendid view of the Galanda. This Benedictine abbey stands about 
780 feet higher than the baths, and is, therefore, not less than 2,810 feet above the level 
of the sea. It was built in the year 720, and a few centuries after it became so 
celebrated, as a monastic shrine, that its abbot was created a prince of the empire — a 
hereditary title till the revolution of 1798, when this power reverted to the pope. 
For ages its demesne was extensive, embracing Sargans, and the whole valley of 
the Tamina. 

" The Landquart, a turbident and capricious mountain-river, flowing through the 
Pratigan in the Grrisons, and whose junction with the Rhine occurs about six miles above 
the town of Sargans, has for a number of years been the means of causing the bed of the 
Rhine below its junction to change its level in an astonishing degree, by the immense 

* " Eemiiiiseences of tlio Rhme," 



THE \'IA ILVLA. 45o 

quantities of gravel, earth, aud sand wliich it yearly dislodges, and brings down into the 
main stream. As the fall of the Rhine at the point of junction is considerable, and 
the bed narrow, this alluvial matter is carried down by the force of the current to the 
open coimtry before Sargans, where the fall, and consequent velocity of the stream, is 
inconsiderable, and the surrounding land flat and marshy. Here, precisely opposite the 
valley of the Seez, which bends to the north-west, and which is only separated from the 
valley of the Ehine by a narrow ridge of earthy deposit, the greatest alteration in the 
bed of the river is observed to Tiave taken place from the accumidatiou of this rubbish, 
and the consequent rise of the level of the stream. The geologist, M. de Buch, has 
measured the relative heights of the bed of the Pthine in floods, and that of the slope of 
the adjacent valley at this poiut, and finds onl}' twenty-four feet difierence. He there- 
fore siftnises that whenever the river shall, either by the gradual rise of its bed, or in an 
unusual flood, gain this height, or efiect the smallest aperture, the greatest part of its 
waters must precipitate themselves into this new channel, never to return to their ancient 
bed. For the fall through the valley of Seez into the lake of Wallenstadt is so much 
greater than that in the present A'alley of the Rhine, that the new channel must naturally 
become the ordinary one."* 

A group of houses, called Reichenau, appears at the junction of the two Rhiues. The 
three sources of that noble river — the anterior, middle, and posterior — take their rise in 
the canton of the Grisons, which we shall speedily visit ; but the valley of the Hinter 
Rhein, which rises to the east of the Vorder Rhein at the foot of the Piz Val Rhein, and 
running first north-east, and then north, for about forty miles, joins the Vorder Rhein 
near Reichenau. At their confluence, the two branches of the Rhine form almost a 
right angle— one running north and the other west; and from this point the united 
streams become navigable for heavy rafts. At Reichenau two covered bridges, each 
consisting of one arch, cross its waters. 

The Via Mala is thus described by the Hon. and Rev. Baptist Noel : " At its entrance, 
which is about a mile from the inn, on the right bank of the river, stands the old castle 
of Realt. It is built on the edge of a precipice four hundred feet in height, on a pro- 
montory which terminates the chain of the Ob'erhalbstein mountains, which lie between 
the iUbula river and the Rhine. Inaccessible on three sides, it was connected with the 
moimtains behind it b}'^ a neck of land ; and here its proud lords for ages looked down on 
the discontent of their vassals with as little concern as on the foam and fury of the 
swollen river ; exulted in their impregnable position, and bade deflance to every foe ; 
while perhaps it was not without superstitious horror that thej'- looked from the castle 
wiadows into the unexplored depths of the Trou Perdii, that mysterious region, untrodden 
by the foot of shepherd, hunter, or brigand, where no sound was heard but the howl of 
the wind or the rattle of the thunder. As we ascended, the cliffs grew higher, and the 
river muiunured far down in its rocky bed, gleaming from time to time between the 
stems of pine-woods. After some distance, the road emerged into an opening in the 
defile, where the sun was shiaing on a solitary public-hoiise by the side of the road, and 
where the meadows looked bright and gay. But soon the ravine closed again, and again 
the road was excavated from the rock or earth of the steep bank on the left or west side 
of the ravine. This became at length so precipitous as to arrest the engineer in his bold 
work; for he found himself on the narrow and artificial ledge of a precipice several' 
hundred feet above the river without the possibility of descending, climbing, or advancing. 
Nothing remained but to cross the chasm by throwing an arch over it. Thus he passed 
to the right bank of the ravine, where still the construction of the road was far from easy, 
since it nearly overhangs the river, and is overhung by loftier precipices itself. On 

* Latrobe'ii Alpenstock, 



456 



SWITZERLAND. 



that bank we advanced to a spot, where a second time the engineer' was baffled by the 
precipice. He was now working a narrow ledge on the face of a perpendicular wall of 
rock, rising at least 1,400 feet above the torrent, and here actually curving over his head. 




VlaiW NEAE KEICHENAU. 



Again he must span the ravine to reach the left bank ; and though the cliffs cleft by the 
torrent rise at this place 400 feet above its bed, they were so slightly parted, that 
a single arch; about thirty feet in length, could imite them. To form the scaltbldiuo- 




LAKE OF THE OBEE-ALP. 



by which the workmen might execute this work, pines were firmly lashed together with 
ropes, and swung across the gulf ; and on this frail bridge, rocked possibly by the gust 
of the tempest, with the black abyss beneath them, thej^ constructed that arch, which still 
stands a monument of human skill and courage. This point is the most magnificent of 



THE VIA MALA. 



tor 



the -whole ascent : all around, above, beneath, is dark, wild, and savage. The river is 
far down in the depth below ; the brows of encircling precipices are far up in the skies 
overhead. To that river no foot has ever descended ; to those shaggy brows no hunter 
has ever climbed. Farther up the ravine, you may see the rocky walls close over the 
torrent, which there roUs and rages in darkness, like the Tamina at Pfeffers. But who 
has searched these caverns ? I felt insatiate of the scene, and while admitting the truth 







of the Horatian maxim, "Nil admirari sapientis est," felt no disposition to freeze up my" 
wonder and delight into stoicism. But to drive through this via optima, which should 
no longer be called the Yia Mala, is not to see it. He who would know it aright, ought 
to traverse it in storm as well as in sunshine. He ought to see the black vapours boiling 
up from its depths ; he ought to listen when its crags answer the artillery of the thunder- 



458 SWITZERLAND. 

cloud ; he ouglit to shiidder on the margin of its precipices, and explore its darkest depths ; 
he ought to muse among its blasted pines, or lie down on one of its slopes, when the 
summer sun in the meridian extorts from its rugged features a reluctant smile. He 
ought to stand there all alone, till the wild music of its torrent and its forests might fall 
upon Ms listening ear, and till its sublime solitude might enter his very soul. How much 
is there still to learn about it ?• How looks the strange avenue from below, when the 
mid-day sun for one quarter of an hour throws its flame upon the restless waters ? Is 
there no rent in these cliffs, by which a natural staircase leads to the very margin of the 
river? Are there no means by which you can enter these long and lofty caverns, com- 
pared with which the vault of Pfeffers is a toy ? A bold and prudent traveller, who, with 
good guides, should explore these torture-chambers, where the imprisoned and tormented 
river writhes, and curls, and groans in subterranean darkness, might weave a stirring 
narrative, worthy to be placed side by side with the story of an ascent to Mont Blanc, or 
of a walk over the ice-plains of the Oberland. At present no living thing goes down to 
that darkness, except, perhaps, some colony of bats, who live nestled in the hollows of the 
precipice. Nor are these quite safe : for in 1834, after heavy rains, the postmaster of 
Thusis visited the middle bridge, when the torrent, which is usually seen four hundred 
feet beneath the centre of the bridge, had swollen in its rage, and, breaking over its prison 
walls, was furiously foaming within a few feet of the arch— a magnificent spectacle to the 
postmaster, but awkward to the bats. Some day, perchance, if the memory of that flood 
forbid it not, a scaffolding of planks, like that at Pfeffers, carried along the cliffs, will 
throw open, even to the timid, the whole extent of that wonderful avenue, along Avhich 
the tormented river now howls and groans. What traveller would not willingly j^ay his 
fee to secure such a Avalk ? About two miles more of gradual ascent brought us to a third 
bridge over the river, close to Zillis, where the pass opens on the tamer scenery of the 
valley of Schams. Here we descended to the level of the pure stream, Avhose waters 
do not at that point, like other Alpine streams, betray its glacial origin by being turbid. 
The Hinter Rhein rises in the Ptheinwald Glacier, at the foot of the Piz Val Rhein or 
Vogelberg, a mountain marked in Keller's large map as 10,280 feet in height. Here it 
is fed by many streamlets, in a region of savage grandeur, and then, passing in its course 
the lofty village of Splugen, enters the valley of ISchams ; and then, being recruited by 
the waters of the Aversa torrent, which descends from the Val Ferrera, it begins its 
descent into the Via Mala, at the bridge a little below Zillis. Hitherto it has flowed 
joyously on in sunshine; but at this point the lofty Piz Beverin, and the moimtains of 
the Ober Halbstein, stand like resolute brigands in the way of the light-hearted traveller, 
determined to bar all farther progress. But it would go on. Grallantlj'- it struggled 
with these hostile masses : it has worn them down ; it has cleft them asunder, and worked 
its chamiel deeper and deeper into the solid cliff. Here it has wrought a chasm which, 
though it seems bottomless, is yet so narrow, that an active hunter might leap across it : 
there it has excavated for itself a subterranean passage, whence it is still struggling to 
escape. Look there ; beneath that middle bridge it is imprisoned on every side by 
precipices of 1500 feet. Can it ever emerge ? Follow it, and see. A little farther down 
the glen it has rolled into a channel less obscure, where the sunshiae is again on its 
waters ; and there you may see the foam of its agony subsiding into clear green depths, 
where for a moment it seems to rest, that it may gather strength for the conflict, and 
then again bounds on to accomplish its destiny. Again it is buried beneath the closing 
rocks, which seem to forbid all passage ; but after a few more struggles, you may see it 
once more flushing far down, as you look between the stems of the gigantic pines which 
cling to the rocks near the issue of the glen, and advancing rapidly to its final triumphs. 
How many a noble spirit, in like manner, has in youth struggled with unimaginable 
difficulties, in friendless obscurity ; but, resolute in duty, and gathering courage from 



THE OBER-ALV. 459 

eA^eiy conflict, has fouglit his way to distinction, and eventually blessed mankind with 
his calm wisdom and extensive beneficence ! " 

PoUowing the course of the Vorder Rhein, we reach the beautifully situated village of 
Trons, memorable in the history of the Grisons, at which we shall glance in the 
succeeding chapter. Here are the remains of the maple-tree beneath which the 
deputies of the peasants met the nobles in the year 1424. " Close to the tree," says 
Murraj^, who calls it a sycamore, " stands the little chapel of St. Anne, whose portico is 
adorned with the mottos, ' In libertatem vocati estis ;' ' Ubi Spiritus Doiniai, ibi 
Libertas ;' ' In te speraverunt Patres ;' and with two fresco paintings. One represents 
the first formation of the Grey League, the principal figure being the abbot of 
Dissentis, in the robes of his order ; the coimt of Sax, -with a white flowing beard ; and' 
the lord of Ehajtzuns. The other picture shows the renewal of the oath in 1778 ; the 
deputies here appear with starched frills, and hair powdered and frizzled; in silk 
stockings and walking-sticks. It is recorded that the deputies, on the former occasion, 
brought their dinners in sacks on their backs, which they hung up by nails to the rocks, 
while they quenched their thirst in the brook which traverses the meadow of Tavanosa. 
The more courtier-like deputies of the second meeting were more sumptuously feasted in 
the mansion of the abbot." 

Pursuing the same course, Dissentis is reached, where there is a Benedictine abbey, 
and beyond this is the village of Sedrun. The ascent of the Ober-alp may now be 
made ; and on reaching the opposite declivity, there is is a small lake, bearing the name 
of the Ober-alp-see, one of the head- waters of the river Peu'ss. Passing with needed 
caution over the bogs of this part, the traveller proceeds by the vallej^ of Urseren to 
Andermatt, on the St. Gothard. 



CHAPTEE XXXII. 

THE CANTON OF THE GEISONS COIRE — MEYENFEI.D COUNTRY OF DA\OS COL rj,UEIJ-,A. 

The canton of the Grisons, as it is called in French, or Graubiindten, to give its other 
name, is bounded on the north hj the canton of St. Gall, on the east by the Tyrol and 
Vorarlberg, on the south by the Lombardo- Venetian kingdom, and on the west by the 
cantons of Ticino, Uri, and Glarus. It is entirely surrounded by lofty mountains, with 
the exception of one point on the north, where the Ehine issues out of it through a 
narrow valley, along which runs the carriage-road from Coire to St. Gall and Zurich. 

A large offset of the Lepontian Alps detaches itself from the group of the St. Gothard, 
and, running in a north-easterly direction, marks the western boundary of the canton. 
Dividing the waters of the Rhine from those of the Reuss and the Linth, it forms many 
high summits, covered with jDerpetual snow. Another lofty range, wliich, under the 
name of the E-hEetian Alps, forms part of the great central chain, runs east from the 
St. Gothard, dividing the waters which flow northwards into the Ehine from those which 
flow southwards into the Ticino ; the high summits called Piz Val Ehein are in this 
range, over which pass the roads of the Bernhardina and the Splugen, loading from the 
Grisons into Italy. The area of the canton is reckoned at 3,080 square miles, its greatest 
length being about eighty miles from east to west, and its greatest breadth about fifty- 
five from north to south. The surface is cut into numerous vallej'-s, about sixty in 
number. No less than two hundred and forty-one glaciers are reckoned within the 
limits of the Grisons, one hundred and fifty of which send their waters to the Ehine, 
sixty-six to the Danube by means of the Inn, and twenty-five to the Po, by the Adda 
and the Ticino. 

In the fifteenth century, the highlands of Eha:;tia, with their sixty valleys, where the 
Ehine and the Inn have their sources, a wild secluded region, surrounded and intersected 
on all sides by the highest Alps, the house of Hapsburg, or of Austria, had no pretensions 
over the country. Its numerous nobles had become independent, holding directly of the 
empire ; indeed, the bishop of Coire, who had great possessions in the country, was a 
prince of the empire. A century had now elapsed since the Swiss cantonfe had achieved 
, their independence, and their neighbours of the Ehaatian valleys still groaned under the 
oppressions of their petty lords, far more overbearing and capricious than the Austrian 
rulers had been in Helvetia. Perched up in their castles, built on lofty cliffs, they 
sallied thence like birds of prey, scaring the poor shepherds and cultivators below, and 
extorting from them the produce of the soil, insulting the chastity of their daughters, 
and disposing of the lives and Kberty of their sons. 

The chronicles of Rhoctia record many instances of rapacity and barbarity perpetrated 
in these remote vallej^s, which have never been surpassed in the most corrupt countries 
and by the most depraved tyrants. We read of a baron of Vatz who used to starve his 
prisoners in his dungeons, and listen with complacency to their moans from his 
banqueting hall ; and who, to try an experiment on digestion, had three of his servants 
ripped open some hours after dinner. In another place, we find -the chatelain of Guar- 



THE GRISOXS. 461 

doyall sending deliberately to demand, for his private pleasures, the young and beautiful 
daughter of Adam of Camogask, one of his tenants — an outrage, however, which led to the 
revolt and emancipation of the fine valley of the Engadine. We are told of the governor 
of Fardun driving his wild colts among the ripe crops of the farmer Chaldar, whom he 
cast in chains into a subterranean dungeon for pursuing and killing the destructive 
animals. Such is man in every age, and under every clime, when left to the uncontrolled 
indulgence of his passions over the persons and property of his fellow-creatures. 

The nobles were often at variance with each other. Hartmann, bishop of Coire, unabla 
to defend the scattered remains of his see, authorised his vassals to form alliances with 
the neighbouring communes and lordships ; accordingly, in 1396, his subjects of the 
valley of Domleschg, Avers, Oberhalbstein, and Bergun, entered into a treat}', offensive 
and defensive, with the powerful counts of Werdenberg, lords of Schams and Obervatz. 
This was the first origin of one of the three leagues or federations of EhEetia. The 
increase of strength thus derived by the prelate excited the jealousy of the nobles of the- 




upper Rhine, who formed likewise, in 1-100, an alliance with their neighbours of the free 
canton of Glau. But they did not grant any franchise to their vassals as the bishop had 
done ; and this made the people more impatient of their servitude. They had no justice 
to expect from the courts, nor protection on the high roads, no security for their persons 
or properties. Several of the elders among the peasants of the country formed a secret 
association for the purpose of devising a remedy for the evils with which the country 
was afflicted. They assembled at night time, in a wood near the village of Trons, 
between the valley of Dissentis and the to'\\Ti of Ilantz. There they framed certain 
resolutions, which they commimicated to the trustiest among their respective neighbours. 
On a fixed day, all the communes of Upper Rhsetia sent deputies to their respective 
lords, demanding a solemn compact, by which the rights of all, high and low, should be. 
defined and guaranteed, and justice and security rendered inviolable. The barons were 
taken unawares ; thcj' had few soldiers on whom they could depend. The abbot of 
Dissentis, a prudent man, who belonged to an ancient native family, received the deputies 
kindty, and readily acceded to their demands. The two barons of Ehsetzuns followed his 
example. Count Ulric of Sax, one of the most powerful feudatories of the Alps, did the 



462 SAVITZERLAND. 

same, as well as tlie old Count Hugo of Werdenberg, brother to the defender of Appenzell. 
Henry of "Werdenberg-Sargans, lord of Schams, alone, whose father had been defeated at 
Nsefels by the people of Grlarus, rejected with scorn the deputies of the communes. In 
May, 1424, the abbot and all the lords of Upper Rhtetia joined the deputies of the various 
valleys, and of the towns of Ilantz and Tusis, in an open field outside of the village of 
Trons, and there, forming a circle round a gigantic maple tree, all of them standing, 
nobles, magistrates, deputies, and elders, swore in the name of the Holy Trinity a 
perpetual alliance for the maintenance of justice and the security of every one, without, 
however, infringiag -on the rights of any. The articles of the league, which to this day 
rules that coimtry, were then stipulated. This was called the Orey Leacjue, from ftie 
colour of the outer garments which the deputies wore. By degrees it gave its name to 
the whole country, which was called Grisons, Grauhundten, and that of Rhsetia became 
obliterated. Such was the glorious covenant of Trons, one of the few events of its kind 
which can be recorded with unmixed satisfaction. 

In the seventeenth century the independence of the Grrisons was annihilated from their 
harsh and imprudent treatment of the people of the Valtelline, and of their obstinate rejec- 
tion of proposals from Madrid. The overbearing conduct of Austria, was, however, the 
cause of the restoration of Grison independence. In that part of the coimtry which they 
now considered as their own, it having been incorporated with the Austrian dominions, 
Baldiron's soldiers oppressed the inhabitants with the greatest insolence, interfered with 
their property, obliged them to carry heavy loads, and treated them more like beasts of 
burthen than like men. A swarm of Capuchins spread over the valleys to convert the 
peasants to Catholicism. All the reformed clergy were driven away, seventy-five 
evangehcal churches were left without pastors, and the people were compelled by blows 
to attend the catholic service. This last act of tyranny roused them to resistance. The 
robust and spirited inhabitants of the fine valley called Pratigau, on the banks of the 
Landquart, disarmed as they were, hied to the mountain forests, made themselves spears 
and clubs, and on Palm Sundaj^, 1622, they issued out with loud shouts, surprised the 
Austrian detachments, cut them to pieces or made them prisoners, and drove away the 
main body as far as Meyenfeld. They then invested Coire, where Baldiron himself was. 
The rest of the country followed their example, the mountaineers from Appenzell joined 
them, and Baldiron was obliged to demand a truce, to withdraw from the country. 
Rudolph de Salis was named General of the Patriots, but Baldiron came against him 
into the Pratigau the next summer with 10,000 men eager for vengeance. The people 
fought with the fury of despair in the valleys, in the villages, in the mountains. It is 
recorded that thirty brave men, in the last fight in the plaia of Acquasana, on the 5th of 
September, threw themselves, armed with clubs only, into the enemy's ranks, and fell 
one after the other upon heaps of soldiers whom they had slain. The succour from Coire 
came too late. The whole country of Pratigau was already in flames, and the population 
almost entirely destroyed. 

The Grison leagues sent envoys to the archduke of Austria at Lindau ; but they had 
to submit to hard conditions. The league of the ten jurisdictions was declared to belong 
to Austria, and free passage Avas to be allowed through the whole Grison country to the 
Austrians and Spaniards. 

The kiag of France, Louis XIII., who was jealous of the Austrian power, had already 
interfered by negotiations, in concert with the duke of Savoy and the senate of Yenice, 
to prevent the permanent occupation, by Spain and Austria, of the important passes of 
the Grisons and the Valtelline. At last, in 1624, he sent a force, imder the count de 
Cceuvres, into the Grison country. Berne and Zurich not only gave a free passage, but 
added their contingents. All the exiled Grisons, led by Rudolph de Salis and by 
Colonel Jenatsch, led the van. As they reached the frontier of their coimtry, a general 



THE GEISONS. 463 

rising took place, and the Austrian garrisons and governors were driven away. The 
foRowing year, Cliiavenna and the Valtellino were reconquered from the Spaniards. 
■The treatjr concluded from Moncon, in Aragon, between France and Spain, in 1626, 
settled for a time the affairs of the Grisons, though not to the full satisfaction of the 
latter, who still clung pertinaciously to their rights of sovereignty over the Italian valleys. 

General Bonaparte, under the pretext of some remonstrances and complaints on the 
part of the inhabitants against theii' rulers, had seized, in 1797, upon the baili\vicks of 
the Yaltelline, Chiavenna, and Borniio, which had been for centuries dependent on the 
Grisons, and had incorporated them with the Cisalpine republic. At the same time, all 
the property, houses, and lands belonging to citizens of the Grisons which were situated 
in these districts were confiscated, to the amoimt of some millions of florins, and many 
families were thus ruined. 

The French directory issued a decree, declaring that the Helvetic confederation had 
ceased to exist, and that Switzerland was to form a single repubKc, one and indivisible, 
imder a central government to be established at Aarau. The plan of constitution was 
sent from Paris, on the model of the French constitution of the year 3, consisting of two 
councils and an executive directorj^, in whom was vested the aiDpointment of prefects and 
other authorities for the various cantons, which were thus to be transformed into depart- 
ments, with the loss of theii' independence as separate states. A new division of the 
country into twenty-two cantons was likewise made at Paris , the old canton of Berne 
was parcelled into four, cantons, namely, Berne, Vaud, Oberland, and Aargau. The 
Grisons, being too remote, and bordering upon the Austrian territories, with which 
France was then at peace, were simply invited to join the new Helvetic republic ; which 
invitation, however, they declined to accept. 

The war having broken out again in March, 1799, between the emperor and France, 
Massena, who now commanded the French army in Switzerland, surprised the Austrian 
division stationed in the Grisons, and overran the country. The battles of Stockach and 
Feldkirch, gained by the Archduke Charles and General Hotze, obliged the French to 
evacuate the Grisons soon after ; and the Anstrians, foUoA^'ing up their success, spread 
also over eastern Switzerland. After several engagements, Masseua left Zurich and fell 
back on the river Reuss. The small cantons availed themselves of this opportunity to 
throAV ofifthe yoke. TJri rose and took possession of the pass of the St. Gothard, the 
people of Upper Valais occupied the Simplon, so as to cut off the communication between 
the French forces in Switzerland and those in Italy. Schwitz rose also ; but the French 
came in great numbers in May, 1799, and overpowered and disarmed the inhabitants, 
many of whom were killed. Insurrections and partial conflicts desolated all the eastern 
part of Switzerland. In those cantons which had been newly raised to independence 
and equalitj^, such as Thurgau and part of Zurich, the French had partisans who took 
up arms for them ; the old cantons, on the contrary, fought desperately against them, and 
the French retaliated with their usual ferocity. The Austrians, and a Russian auxiliary 
division, under General Korsakou, occupied Zurich, which became the head quarters of 
the allies. On the 7th of June the French evacuated Schwitz, and took up a position on 
the frontiers of Zug, by the Aollage of Arth. The Austrians then entered Schwitz, where the 
inhabitants joined them. On the 3rd of Jidy the French attacked the whole Austrian 
line, but the Schwitzers repulsed them again at Morgarten, and drove them as far as 
Egeri. Meantime the Archduke Charles moved the greater part of his forces into Suabia, 
to continue his operations in that quarter ; and the Russians, thus weakened, were 
attacked by Massena in a battle, or rather succession of battles, near Zurich, in 
September, 1799, and defeated, the French forcing their way into the town of Zurich. 
At the same time, the Russian general, Suwarrow, was crossing the St. Gothard with a 
strong force to join his countrymen in Switzerland, but he arrived too late ; he met the 



464 SWITZERLAND. 

French advanced division at Altorf, and drove them back as far as Schwitz. On hearing 
the loss of the battle of Zurich, Suwarrow, after some partial engagements, was obliged 
to turn, by a more difficult path over Mount Bragel and by the Klonthal, into the- 
canton of Glarus, whence he was likewise driven by the French under General Molitor, 
and obliged to retire in the night, and by the light of torches, through the pass of the 
Krauhenthal, into the country of Sargans, on the borders of the Grisons. Soon after the 
Russians left Switzerland altogether. The details of this mountain warfare among the- 
high Alps, in which generals Lecourbe, Soult, and Molitor among the French, and 
Suwarrow and Hotze among the Russians and Austrians, distinguished themselves, 
are full of strategic interest. But the unfortunate mountain cantons were utterly ruined 
by this strange immigration of numerous armies of Russians, Austrians, and French, all 
living at free quarters upon the inhabitants, and committing many acts of violence. 

The constitutions of the twentj^-two cantons, as established in 1814, might be ranged 
into three classes, according to the prevailing principle of each. The first class is that, 
of the pure democracies, which remained unaltered in their principle. The cantons thuS; 
constituted are the old mountain cantons, namelj^ Schwitz, Uri, Unterwalden, Glarus, 
Zug, and Appeuzell. To these may be added two more cantons, the Grisons and the 
Valais, which were formei'lj^ only allies of the Swiss, but are now, as we have seen, 
integral parts of the confederation. These two states are composed of a number of small 
democracies, one in each valley, having each its own cotincils and magistrates, who 
administer all internal affairs, and who send deputies to a great council or cantonal diet, 
which exercises the higher legislative powers in matters concerning the whole state. 
The laws, however, which emanate from this great council are submitted to the appro- 
bation of the assemblies of the people of each valley or district. These states, in short,' 
constitute confederations in miniature, similar to the great Swiss confederation, of which 
they form a part. In the Yalais the forms are less democratic than in the Grisons, the 
lower Valais not having an equality of votes with the upper Valais ; indeed, it will be 
remembered that previous to 1798, the lower Valaisans Avere subjects of the upper or 
German Valais. The bishop of Sion has also a vote in the general diet of the Valais. 
In the Grisons, on the contrary, a system of perfect equality exists between the inhabitants 
of the numerous valleys or districts of that Alpine region. 

The population of the canton of the Grisons is reckoned by a recent authority at about 
96,000, of whom one-third speak German, and the rest speak the Romansch and Ladin 
dialects, except those of the valleys south of the Alps, where they speak a Lombard 
dialect of the Italian. One third of the above are Roman catholics, the rest arc pro- 
testants of the Helvetic communion. 

The productions of the soil are extremely varied, according to the elevation of the 
ground and the aspect of the respective valleys. Some enjoy almost an Italian climate, 
and the vine, wheat, maize, as well as the fig-tree and the almond, thrive in them ; 
whilst others produce with difficulty scanty crops of barley and rye. Hemp and flax are 
largely cultivated, as well as potatoes, turnips, carrots, and other roots. A considerable 
part of the canton is occupied by pastures and forests. Cattle, goats, and pigs are 
numerous, but the horses are few. Cattle and cheese are exported to the Italian markets. 
The mountains abound with game, as well as bears, wolves, lynxes, and wild cats. Trout 
and salmon are foimd in the rivers. 

Coire is the capital of the Grisons, situated at the foot of the Alps, in a rich plain 
between two or three miles wide — a considerable breadth of valley for this mountainous 
country. Opposite is the chain of mountains which separates the countrjr of the Grisons 
from the canton of Glarus ; of this chain the Calendar is esteemed the highest point, but 
it is far inferior in elevation to several of the Swiss and Savoy Alps, and wants one 
certain criterion of great height — perpetual snow. The town lying partly in the plain, 



and partly upon the steep side of a rock, is surrounded with ancient brick walls, with 
square and round towers in the style of fortification prior to the invention of gunpowder. 
The streets are narrow and dirty. 

Many fables are related concerning the foundation of Coire ; the most probable account 
seems to be, that it owes its origin to the Emperor Constantine, who, in the 355th year of 
the Christian era, penetrated into Rhcetia, and fixed his station for some time near the 
spot where Coire now stands. A town, as it often happened on such occasions, was 
constructed near the camp ; and from the imperial residence it is supposed to have 
derived the name Curia, its ancient appellation, since corrupted into Coira, and Coire, 
and called Chur in the German. The remains of two or three towers, which are 
evidently of Roman construction, attest its antiquity, and serve to establish the truth of 
the conjectures concerning its origin. 

, The town of Coire was formerly a city of the German empire, under the dominion of 
its own counts, and came in the ninth century mider the jurisdiction of the bishop. Like 
many other cities of Germany, it obtained considerable privileges from the different 
emperors ; and the inhabitants having gradually circumscribed the authority of the 
bishop, at length established an independent republic. 

The government of Coire was afterwards of a mixed form, partly aristocratical and 
partly democratical. The supreme legislative authority resided in the citizens, whose 
number amoimted to 294, divided into five tribes. Each citizen had a vote at the age of 
twenty. The suffrages were never collected in a meeting of the whole body of the 
people assembled together in one spot ; but the object of deliberation was separately laid 
before each tribe, and was decided by the majority of the five tribes. 

The executive power was entrusted to the council of seventy, composed of fourteen 
members annually elected from each tribe. This sovereign council was divided into several 
lesser departments, of which the principal was the senate or council of fifteen, who had 
the chief direction of affairs, either solely or conjointly with other members of the 
sovereign council. The chiefs of Coire were two burgomasters, taken from the members 
of the senate, who, although liable to be removed, invariably continued in office for life. 
These two magistrates enjoyed the supreme dignity by rotation, each for the space of a 
year ; during which term the acting chief, under the title of reigning burgomaster, 
presided in the usual councils. The criminal tribunal was composed of the senate and 
fifteen other members of the sovereign council. The prisoners were examined and the 
process made out by the secret council, formed of the seven oldest members of the senate. 
A concurrence of the majority of these seven was required to order the infliction of 
torture. After examination and conviction, the acts of the process were laid before the 
criminal tribunal, which ultimatelj'- passed sentence ; and all ofiences, excepting great 
crimes, were commonly punished by fines. 

"My curiosity," says Coxe, "led me this morning to the apartment in which the 
general diet of the Grisons is held every three years ; although it contained no object 
worthy of description, yet it did not fail to strike my attention, as being the place where 
the parliament of a free nation is assembled. Coire sends two deputies to this diet, who 
are generally the two burgomasters ; but if one of these should be chief of the league, 
the other deputy is chosen by rotation in the five tribes, with this condition, that he 
must be a member of the council of seventy. 

" From the apartment in which the diet is held I went to the town-hall, in order to see 
the form of administering the oath to the new BunrV s-president. In general the ceremony 
takes place just before the meeting of the diet, in the presence of the deputies of the 
League of God's House ; but as the person to whom the office now devolves was not 
present at the diet, it Avas necessarily postponed. All the parties being assembled, 
Mr. Tscharner, the last president, -with the public notary, stood at the upper end of the 

2 H 



466 SWITZERLAND. 

room ; the gentleman, appointed to succeed Mm stood at the lower end, with the Bimds- 
loeiher, or secretary, dressed in a cloak half black and half white, the liyery of the league. 
Mr. Tscharner addressed to his successor a speech of about ten minutes, in Grerman, 
acquainting him that he was appointed by the league Bunds-president for the ensuing 
year, giving him joy of his promotion, and congratulating the league iipon the nomina- 
tion of a person so well calculated by his integrity and abilities to fulfil the duties of the 
office. At the conclusion of this speech, the public notary read the oaths for the president, 
for himself, and the secretary. Mr. Tscharner then told them to hold up three fingers 
of their right hand, and to repeat after him their several oaths ; which ceremony being 
concluded, the new president made a short speech, that he was highly flattered with the 
honour conferred tipon him, and that he would strive, as far as his abilities would permit 
him, to promote the welfare of the league of which he had been elected president. Then 
the former president bowing to the new chief, the latter walked first out of the room ; 
and thus ended the ceremony." 

It is remarkable, that althoiigh in the nomination of the magistrates, president, and 
deputies, the aristocratic party has the entire direction, 3^et that the appoiutment to the 
vacant governments of the subject provinces shoidd be left wholly to chance. When the 
turn belongs to Coire, the five tribes meet separately, and a candidate is appointed by lot 
for each tribe. These five persons then draw lots for the office, and the successful can- 
didate may sell the turn, with this restriction, that the preference of purchasing it shall 
be given first, to a member of the same tribe ; secondly, to any citizen of Coire ; thirdly, 
to an inhabitant of the League of God's House. It frequently happens that the five 
persons who are to draw lots for the government agree to divide the profits of the sale. 

Upon the highest part of the town stands the bishop's palace, the cathedral, and the 
houses belonging to the chapter. The diocese of the bishop once extended over the whole 
Roman province of Rhoetia, which comprehended the present country of the Grrisons, 
Valteline, Chiaveima, and Bormio, the eastern district of Switzerland as far as the Lake 
of Constance, and part of the Tyrol. The bishop's territorial possessions were also consider- 
able, and his revenues by no means inadequate to his power and dignity. His authority 
was principally lessened by the formation of what was called "the -League of God's 
House," and the limitation of his prerogatives in 1527 : by the former he was compelled, 
to ratify the independence of the communities ; by the latter the principal prerogatives, 
from which he derived great influence in the political afiairs of the Grisons, were at once 
annihilated ; and he was reduced to the condition of a private person in that country 
wherein he had formerly been considered as a sovereign prince. These privileges 
consisted in having admission and a voice in the general diet of the Grisons; in 
appointing several deputies for the same assembly ; in nomiaating the chief magistrates 
of several communities ; and in receiving appeals in civil causes from the decision of the 
provincial courts of justice. All these prerogatives were abrogated hj a general diet of 
the Grisons in 1527 ; and the few remaining rights have been either purchased or taken 
away. The introduction of the protestant religion gave the final blow to his power ; for 
his revenue suffered great diminution by the loss of the tithes, which were seized by the 
reformed communities. 

The bishop is a prince of the Roman empire — a dignity annexed to the see, in 1170, 
by the emperor Frederic the First — and is styled Lord of Furstenberg and Fursteaau. 
His revenues arise chiefly from estates near Coire and in the Tyrol. He receives a 
small sum annually from the customs of Chiavenna and Bormio. The only 
prerogatives remaining are the right of coining money, and an absolute juris- 
diction, both in civil and criminal affairs, within the small district in which his 
palace and the chapter are situated. Beyond this district he enjoys not the least 
power; so far from interfei-ing in the affairs. of the town, he could not even enter it if 



ANGELICA KAXJFFMAN. 



the inhabitants chose to exclude him, — a right which they asserted in 1764, upon the 
following occasion. A catholic, in order to prevent his being arrested for a crime of 
which he had been guilty, took refuge from the hands of justice in the cathedral. The 
inhabitants, inflamed by the bishop's refusal to deliver him up, raised a gate close to the 
only opening which leads into the episcopal district, by which means the avenue to the 
palace was closed. This manoeuvre conquered the bishop's obstinacy, and the criminal 
was delivered up. The gate still exists, and is ready to be used upon another occasion. 

The bishop is chosen by the chapter. Many disputes relating to his election have 
arisen between the canons and the League of God's House : the latter, in virtue of a 
treaty contracted in 1541 with the bishop, protests that only amative of the league can 
be promoted to the see. This treaty was observed until 1692, when a foreigner was 
elected ; from that period the canons have disregarded the right asserted by the league, 
and have without reserve given their votes to aliens. At every new election the league 
remonstrates, but without effect. The episcopal district is only a few hundred paces in 
circumference, and is surrounded by high walls. The greatest part of the bishop's 
palace is modern, excepting a square tower, which is supjDOsed to have been constructed 
by the Romans. It is of strong but clumsy workmanship, and is in no degree entitled 
to notice, except as a monument of antiquity. 

The situation of Coire, on the high road from eastern Switzerland into Italy, renders 
its transit commerce very active, and several thriving commercial houses are found in it. 
The neighbourhood of Coire, in a fertile valley watered by the Plessur, about a mile 
from the right bank of the Rhine, at the entrance of the highlands of the Grisons, is 
extremely romantic. 

Angelica Kauffinan was born at Coire, in 1741, and acquired no little fame in the last 
century. She was instructed in the elements of painting by her father, who, observing 
her genius, took her to Milan, when she was fourteen years old, aad from thence she 
proceeded to Parma, Florence, Rome, and Naples. In 1764, she returned to Rome, 
where her talents and personal accomplishments rendered her an object of general 
admiration. 

In the following year she went to Venice, and soon after accompanied Lady Went- 
worth, the wife of the British ambassador, to England. Here she enjoyed the royal 
favour, was highly commended by Sir Joshua Reynolds, was decorated with honours by 
the Royal Academy, and, fully employed in the practice of her art, seemed to have 
realised her most sanguine wishes. But, imhappily, the valet of a German count passed 
himself off for his master, and married her. The cheat was discovered too late, and 
the villain was obliged to decamp, after inflicting much suffering oh his dupe. Seven 
years after, she married a Yenetian artist, Antonio Zucchi. Having resided seventeen 
years in England, she went to Rome, and died there in 1807. She had doubtless great 
and varied talents, and a fine taste, and was favoured in meeting vvlth Bartolozzi as an 
engraver, who did ample justice to her designs. 

The country of Davos is one of the most curious and least A'islted valleys in the whole 
chain of the Alps. This disfavour. If it be one, arises from its retired position in the 
bosom of the mountains, out of the great lines of communication which cross one another 
in this part of Switzerland. It leads nowhere. Surrounded on all sides by lofty peaks, 
it becomes so narrow at its lower extremity, that the little river which waters it occupies 
its whole breadth, and, flanked by perpendicular rocks, escapes from this nook as if 
through a cleft. It may, therefore, be- truly said that the coimtry of Davos is a. pays 
perdu. It appears that its very existence remained, in consequence of these circum- 
stances, for a long time unknown to the inhabitants of these parts. Tradition relates 
that it was only discovered in the thirteenth century. The huntsmen of Baron de Vatz, 
while pursuing a bear in the mountains of Schalfik, which separate this valley from that 

2 H 2 



468 SUTl'ZERI^ND. 

of the Ehine, reached the heights which rise directly ahove it, and thea perceived below 
them the lake and beautiful pastures which adorn the bottom. As this spot had no 
name, they gave it that of Tavau, which in the Grison language signifies "behind 
there." Thence is derived the name of Davos. Baron de Vatz wishing to turn these 
pastures to account, built twelve chalets, and, as a reward to the huntsmen, allowed them 
to bring some of the members of their families from the mountains of the Haut Valais, 
of which they were natives, to take possession of these chalets. Thus the country was 
peopled. About the centre of the valley is still shown the remains of a hut, which pass 
for those of one of the first dwellings. But a more satisfactory monument of these 
primitive times is the language; for while in all the surrounding valleys Grison is 
spoken, that is to say, the old language of the Rhsstians, in the whole of Davos the 
German dialect of the Haut Valais is spoken. The inhabitants also bear the name of 
Walser, an alteration of Waliser, which is the name of the inhabitants of the Haut Valais. 
Lastly, several family names are found in the country. which also exist in the Valais. 
Besides, it appears that the population increased very quickly, probably through new 
migrations of Valaisans ; for in 1436, only two centuries after its discovery, the country 
of Davos was united to a neighboiiring valley, the Pratigau, and laid the foundation of 
the League of the Ten Jurisdictions, which afterwards uniting with the Grey League, 
and that of the Maison Dieu, formed the federal republic of the Grisons. 

The verdure of the valley of Davos is the more agreeable, since it can only be reached 
by crossing rough and almost barren mountains. It is like an oasis in a desert of snow 
and rocks. The A'iew is especially striking when the bold path through the Schalfikthal 
is followed. When the traveller has reached the Col, situate at the extremity of the 
valley of Strela, he sees around him only black peaks, heaps of shattered rocks, beds of 
snow, a few blades of grass trying to grow and flourish, and on the horizon a dark line 
of ragged peaks, striped white and black ; but he has hardly taken a step forward, when, 
between himself and those stern mountain tops, he suddenly beholds an abyss, and at the 
bottom of the abyss a little blue lake ; a river issuing from the lake, gently flows 
through magnificent meadows, enriched on the right and left by the product of the 
torrents and cascades which tear down from the moimtains ; large forests of pines and 
larches from between the snow and naked rocks, which occupy the upper regions ; and 
the fresh colour of the meadows, a girdle of dark green, broken here and there by Alpine 
pasturage. Such must have been the spectacle which met the eyes of the huntsmen of 
Baron de Vatz, when, after having climbed so many difficult passes, they first reached 
those desolate summits. But now this beautiful hollow is a complete nest of shepherds. 
The hand of man is seen everywhere. Churches, villages in long perspective, can be 
distinguished below ; paths which intersect one another and furrow the verdure ; bridges 
here and there breaking the line of water ; chalets for storing up fodder scattered on all 
sides in the meadows, and rising from stage to stage above the forests. There are about 
3,000 inhabitants and from 7,000 to 8,000 head of cattle, which constitute their chief 
wealth, since corn is not cultivated. The population are distinguished for their beauty, their 
vigour, and their kindly disposition. For three hundred years the country has furnished 
Europe with a considerable number of statesmen, generals, ecclesiastics, and other superior 
officers. At present the population is too large in proportion to the size of the valley, 
and hence they are compelled to emigrate extensively, — as in the neighbouring valley of 
Engadine, a great number of young men go and seek their fortune by becoming lemonade 
makers and confectioners in large cities. Many afterwards return to their native valley ; 
but their return, though profitable to the riches of the country, imhappily does not tend 
to preserve its pastoral simplicity. 

The whole length of the valley is about fifteen miles, its breadth is hardly more than 
three-quai'ters of a mile at the bottom. At the upper end it divides into four lateral 



COl. Dli FJ.UliLA. 469 

valleys which run into the chain of the Alps at a very little distance from, one another ; 
they are the valleys of Fluela, Dischma, Sertig, and Montstein. Each of them ends in 
a Col, by which a descent may be made into the Upper Engadine. The other outlets are 
Col de Strela leading to Coire, the Col de Statz leading to the Pratigau, and practicable 
for carriages, and the defile of Rugha. 

The Col de Eluela, if not the most convenient, is at least the most interesting, of these 
outlets, because of its wild and majestic character. At the top is a little lake, supplied 
by the melting of the snows, of about three-quarters of a mile in extent ; on its banks are 
a few flowers. The waters flow on the one side into the Inn, and thence into the 
Danube ; on the other into the river of Davos, and thence into the Rhine. This is a 
very remarkable spot. The waters which flow into the Danube are those which 
descend towards the magnificent wall of rocks at the furthest part of the picture. 
These elevated mountain solitudes are inhabited only by chamois, foxes, and 
marmots. The last-mentioned animals are very abundant ; the passing traveller is 
continually saluted by their shrill cries, and he sees them scudding across the snow 
and hiding themselves in the hollow rocks which form their abodes. There are also 
some wolves and bears ; but these ferocious animals have been very much hunted, and 
are decreasing in number every day. The huntsmen complain very much of this, but 
not so shepherds and travellers. . 

"Towards the extremity of the beautiful valley of Davos," says Coxe, "I came to a 
small lake, about four miles in circumference, which is remarkably deep and clear, and 
abounds with excellent trout. It lies at the foot of the mountains, and supplies a small 
stream, which being joined by one from the valley of Hola, and by another from that of 
Diesma, forms the murmuring brook that waters the valley of Davos, and falls into the 
Albula above the baths of Alveneu : it is considered by some writers as forming a source 
of the Rhine. From the banks of this lake I descended to another, about half a mile in 
circumference, that lies in a wild and romantic situation, and supplies a little torrent 
which is the source of the Lanquart. A little further we passed through a small pleasant 
plain strewed with cottages, which compose the village of Lower Lera, at the extremity 
of which the descent was so steep and rugged, that I dismounted until T reached the vale 
of Pratigau. I passed through Closter, Kiiblis, Jenalsch, and Schiers, following all the 
way the torrent Lanquart. The country is delightful, and greatly diversified with all 
kinds of productions. It yields different species of grain, rich pastures, abundance of 
fruit trees, with large quantities of flax and henap. The latter is much cultivated, and 
seems to be carried to great perfection. The peasants manufacture coarse but very 
strong linen from this hemp. 

" The mountains on each side are in some parts covered with forests, and so great is the 
abundance of wood, that the fields are either studded or skirted with larch, pines, and 
beech. The hamlets are scattered through the plain, and along the declivities of the 
mountains, in a very pleasing manner. The houses are mostly of wood, in the Swiss 
mode of construction, and not less convenient. The road through this vale descends 
gently all the way. I have not for some time visited a more agreeable, fertile, and 
populous district. 

"A little beyond Grusch, which lies under some bare rocks in a fertile plain, the valley 
of Pratigau contracts ; and I went through a narrow pass, between impending rocks, 
just broad enough to admit the torrent and the road. The sudden change from the 
fertility of the country to the rugged barrenness of this spot, sufficiently striking of 
itself, was still further heightened by the gloom of the evening, which added to the 
horror of the scenery. The road was carried for some way in continual ascent and 
descent along the craggy precipices, sometimes above, and sometimes upon a level with 
the torrent. The path was so narrow and rugged, that I gave my horse to the guide. 



^70 SWITZERLAND. 

and continued my way on foot. I soon emerged from tliis obscure pass, and, as far as I 
could judge by tbe dim light of the stars, came into a fine and rich country, and went 
through a series of vineyards to Malantz, in the district of Meyenfeld. 

" The high jurisdiction of Meyenfeld is the most remarkable in the whole country of 
the Grisons, because the inhabitants are respectively sovereign and subjects. They are 
sovereign, because .they form part of the league of the ten jurisdictions, send deputies to 
the general diet of the Grisons, and nominate to the government of the subject provinces. 
They are subject, because, like the subject proviaces, they are governed by a bailiff sent 
from the Grisons, who is changed every two years, and ia whom resides the supreme 
authority. This strange intermixture of privileges and subjection is derived from the 
following causes : — 

" The lordship of Meyenfeld was, like the whole territory of this league, subject to the 
counts of Tockenburg, and, in 1436, joined the other communities to form a league. In 
1509, the prerogatives enjoyed by the count of Tockenbiu'g were sold by his heirs, for 
20,000 florins, to the three leagues, which confirmed the privileges of the inhabitants. 
In 1637, Malantz and Jennins, the remaining part of this high jurisdiction, were also 
purchased by the three leagues for 10,000 florins. Thus, while the inhabitants of aU the 
other jurisdictions who came under the dominion of the house of Austria have purchased 
their absolute independence, the people of Meyenfeld and Malantz, although making 
part of the sovereign power, have continued in the same state as at the first formation of 
the leagues. The bailiff' or governor is appointed by the communities of the three leagues 
•in rotation ; and the inhabitants of this very high jurisdiction nominate the bailiff when 
ft is their turn to present to the office. 

" The prerogatives of the bailiff who resides at Meyenfeld are as follow : — ^he appoints the 
stadvogt, or chief magistrate of that town, with this condition — that he miist be a 
member of the senate ; upon a vacancy of the senate or little council, he nominates the 
new senator ; he arrests criminals, examines them, and makes a cohesition if he chooses ; 
he cannot order torture or pass sentence without the concurrence of the members of the 
criminal tribunal, and when they pass sentence can pardon ; he can give a liberation in 
the same manner' as the governor of the ValteHne ; he receives part of the fines for 
criminal offences, and a certain portion of the great tithes ; at Malantz he appoints the 
chief magistrate from three candidates presented by the people, who choose all the other 
magistrates. Both Meyenfeld and Malantz have their civil courts ; from that of the 
former there lies an appeal to the bailiff"." 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 



THE PASS OF THE SPLUGEN — THE PASS OF BERNHAKDINA — THE VALLEY OF MISOCCO, 

It was while " the snowy amphitheatre of the Alps" was the scene of the martial struggles 
which have already been partially traced, that an army of reserve, consisting of fifteen 
thousand men, ^was moved forward to the valley of the Ehine in the Grrisons ; and it was 
destined to menace the rear of the imperial army on the Mincio, while Brune attacked it 
in front. This auxiliary corps would probably have rendered more important service, 
if it had been directed to the grand army of Moreau, which was destined to operate in 
the valley of the Danube, the true avenue to the Austrian states ; but such a disposition 
would have ill accorded with the views of the first consul, who was little anxious to put 
a preponderating force, so near their frontier, into the hands of a dreaded rival, and 
destined for himself the principal part in the campaign, with the troops which he was to 
lead from the Noric Alps to Vienna. 

Independently of this secret feeling, Napoleon was misled by the great results of the 
Italian campaigns of 1796 and 1797, and the paralysing effect of the march of the army 
of reserve across the great St. Bernard. He imagined that Italy was the theatre where 
the decisive events were to take place, and had yet to learn the superior importance of 
the valley of the Danube, in which he himself, on futiu'e occasions, was destined to strike 
such redoubtable blows. " It is fortunate for the historian," says Alison, to whom we 
are indebted for these details, " that this destination of Macdonald's corps took place, as 
it brought to light the intrepidity and heroism of that gallant officer, of whose descent 
Scotland has so much reason to be proud ; while it led to the interesting episode of the 
passage of the Splugen, perhaps the most wonderful achievement of modern times, and 
which has been portrayed by one of its ablest leaders. Count Mathieu Dumas, with the 
fidehty of Xenophon, and the power of Livy." 

The army of Macdonald, which was announced to' consist of forty thovisand men, and 
was furnished with staff and other appointments adequate to that number, in reality 
amounted only to fifteen thousand troops. Macdonald no sooner discovered this great 
deficiency, than he made the most urgent representations to the first consul, and requested 
that the chosen reserve of ten thousand men, which Murat was leading from the camp at 
Amiens to the plains of Italy, should be put under his orders. But ]S"apoleon, who 
intended this corps in the Alps to operate in the campaign more by the apprehensions it 
excited' among the Imperialists than by its actual achievements in the field, refused to 
change the destination of Murat's division, and it continued its route for the banks of 
the Mincio. He still believed that the frontier of the Irun would sufficiently cover the 
Hereditary States on that-side, and that it was by accumidating ninety thousand men in 
the Southern Tyrol and Italy that the decisive blow against the Austrian power was to 
be struck. The command of this great army, destined to dictate peace under the walls 
of Vienna, he ultimately designed for himself. 



472 



s^vl■^zKIU,A^'D. 



Of all the passes from Switzerland to Italy, there' was none which presented more 
serious internal ohstacles, and was more carefully guarded by the enemy, than that 




BERNAEDINO PASS. 



which leads over the Splugen into the Italian Tyrol. It is first necessary to pass from 
the valley of the Rhine, near its source, over the Splugen into that of the Adda, which 
descends in a rapid course from the Julian Alps to the lake of Como ; from thence, if an 




VALLEY OF MISOCCO, 



advance to the eastward is required, the Col Apriga, a steep ridge entangled with wood 
and loft^ chestnuts, must be surmounted, which brings the traveller into the vaUey of the , 



PASS OF Till'; Sl'J 



473 



Oglio ; between which and the stream of the Adige there is interspersed the nigged ridge 
of the Mont Torral, the sunny summit of which was occupied, and had been carefully- 
fortified, by the Austrian troops. Macdonald was no sooner made acquainted with these 
obstacles, than he despatched the chief of the staff, General Mathieu Dumas, to lay 
before the first consul an account of the almost insurmountable difficulties which opposed 
his progress. No man could be better qualified than the officer whose graphic pencil 
has so well described the passage to discharge this delicate mission ; for he was equally 
competent to appreciate the military projects of the general-in- chief, and to portray the 
ph ysical obstructions which opposed their execution. 

Napoleon listened attentively to his statement, interrogated him minutely on the force 
and position of Hilliers' corps, and the divisions of Laudon, Davidowich, and "Wickas- 
sowich, which were stationed near the head of the valleys, which in that part of the 
Alps separate Italy from Grermany ; and then replied, " We shall wrest from them 
without a combat that immense fortress of the Tyrol; we must manoeuvre on their 
flanks ; menace their last line of retreat, and they will immediately evacuate all the 
upper valleys. I shall make no change in my dispositions. Return quickly ; tell 
Macdonald that an army can pass, in any season, where two men can place their feet . It 




PASS OF THE SPLUGEN. 



is indisputable that, in fifteen days after the commencement of hostilities, the army of 
the Grisons should have seen the sources of the Adda, the Oglio, and the Adige ; that 
it should have opened its fire on the Mont Torral which separates them ; and that, 
having descended to Trent, it should form the left wing of the army of Italy, and 
threaten, in concert with the troops on the Mincio, the rear of Bellegarde's army. I 
shall take care to forward to it the necessary reinforcements. It is not by the numerical 
force of an army, but by its distinction and the importance of its operations, that I 
estimate the merit due to its commander." 

Having received these verbal instructions, Macdonald proceeded to obey them, with 
the devotion of a good soldier. His troops advanced, the moment the armistice was 
denounced, into the upper Rheinthal, and concentrated between Coire and Tusis, at the 
entrance of the Via Mala, which is the commencement of the ascent of the Splugen ; 
while, at the same time, to distract the enemy and to conceal his real designs, demon- 
strations were made towards Feldkirch, as if it were intended to break into the Tyrol in 
that quarter. A few days were spent at Tusis in organising the army, and making the 
necessary preparations for the formidable imdertaking which awaited them, of crossing 
in the depth of winter the snowy summits of the mountains. 



474 SWITZERLAND. 

All the artillery was dismounted, and placed on sledges constructed in tlie country,'to 
which oxen were harnessed ; the artillery ammunition was divided, and placed on the 
backs of mules ; and in addition to his ordinary arms, ball-cartridge, and knapsack, every 
soldier received five days' provisions and five packets of cartridges to bear on his 
shoulders over the rugged ascent. The passage of the Via Mala was now made. 
Emerging from this gloomy defile, the road traverses for two leagues the open and 
smiling valley of Sohams ; it next ascends, by a winding course, the pine-clad clifis of 
La Eofila, and at length reaches, in a narrrow and desolate pastoral valley, the village of 
Splugen, situated at the foot of the ascent of the mountain of the same name. 

Doubt rests as to a roixte over the Splugen at a very early period, but it is certain that 
ill the twelfth century a communication existed between the village of Isola on its 
southern flank and Neufannen in the E.heinwald. There was an inn at that period near the 
Schneehom, which, as well as the Col itself, has been entombed for ages by an immense 
glacier, through the surface of which the bell of the buried hospice having made its way, 
was removed to Isola. Ebel supposes that in the fourteenth century the glacier of Tambo 
so extended itself as to block up this ancient track by the Schneehorn, when for the 
first time the track over the Splugen became a substitute for the former, and, following 
the glens of the Piz Beverin, re-established the communication between Chiavenna and 
Thusis. About the middle of the fifteenth centurj^, when the gorge of the Rofila 
and Via Mala had been considered practicable, the free passage of the Splugen 
arose into fresh importance, and as it opened a line of direct intercourse between 
Germany, Switzerland, and Italy, it rivalled the St. Grothard as a medium of trafiic. 
StiU, these paths, just broad enough for the employment of beasts of burden during 
summer, and of small sledges in winter, were beset by great perils in this transport of 
merchandise. 

The old road, leaving the waters of the Rhine which descend cold and clear from the 
glaciers of the Hinter Rhein, turned short to the left hand, and ascended a lateral valley 
as far as its upper extremity, where it emerged on the bare face of the mountains above 
the region of wood, and, by a painful ascent, often of forty-five degrees elevation, the 
summit was ultimately gained. 

A mountain pass in these regions is, as we have seen, beset with peculiar and imminent 
perils, of which we may give the following instance : — 

M. Buchwalder, an engineer who made a trigonometrical survey of Switzerland, thus 
describes a storm on the Sentis : — " In the evening it rained very heavily, and the cold 
and wind were such that they prevented me from sleeping all night. At four o'clock 
in the morning, the mountain was covered with clouds ; some were passLag over our 
heads ; the wind rose very high. However, some larger clouds, coming from the west, 
united and slowly condensed. At six o'clock the rain began again, and the thunder was 
heard in the distance. Soon a very violent gust warned me that a tempest was coming. 
The hail fell in such abundance, that in an instant it covered the Sentis with a layer of 
ice four centimetres thick. After these preliminaries the storm seemed j;o calm down ; 
but it was a sUence during which nature was preparing itself for a terrible crisis. At a 
quarter past eight the thunder roared afresh, and its noise, coming nearer and nearer, was 
heard interrupted^ till ten o'clock. I went out to examine the skj', and to measure the 
depth of the snow a few feet from the tent. Hardly had I done this, when the thunder 
roared most terrificallj^, and forced me to take refuge in my tent, as well as my assistant. 
"We laid down side by side on a plank. Then a huge cloud, black as night, enveloped the 
Sentis ; the rain and hail feU in torrents ; the wind whistled fiuiously ; the flashes of 
lightning were so close and mingled as to resemble a fire ; the peals of thunder followed 
rapidly one after another, dashing as it were against themselves and the mountain sides, 
and, indefinitely repeated in space, were both a sharp crash, a distant echo, and a deep. 



STORM OK THE MOUNa'AINS. 475 

long bellowing. I felt that we were in the centi-e of the tempest, and the lightning 
displajred to me all the grandeiu- and horror of the scene. My assistant could not help 
maliing- some sign of terror, and asked me if we did not incur some danger ; I reassured 
him hy telling him that at the time when M. Biot and Arago were making their obser- 
vations in Spain, the thunderbolts struck their tent, but glided off again without 
touching them. I was quite tranquil, for accustomed as I am to the noise of thimder, I 
am still studying it when it is roaring aroimd rue. These words, howeA^er, recalled to 
my mind the idea of danger, and I immediately understood it. At that moment a globe 
of lii'e appeared at my companion's feet, and I felt myself struck on mj' left leg by a 
■violent electric shock. He uttered a plaintire cry, I turned towards him, and saw on 
his covmtenance the effect of the thimderbolt ; the left side was furrowed with broAvn or 
red scars ; his hair, ej^ebrows, and eyelashes were crisp and burnt ; his Hps and nostrils 
were of a brown violet ; his breast still heaved every moment, biit soon the noise of 
respiration ceased. I felt aU the horror of my position, but I forgot my own sufferings 
to seek to convey help to a man whom I saw djdng. I called him, he did not answer. 
His right eye was open and shining ; a ray of intelligence seemed to escape from it, and 
I entertained some hope ; but the left eje remained closed, and on raising the eyelid I 
saw that it was didl. I, however, sujDjsosed that there remained some life in the right 
side, for if I attempted to close the eye on this side, an attempt which I rei^eated thi"ee 
times, it reopened and appeared animate. I put my hand to his heart, it was beating 
no longer ; I pricked the limbs, the body, and the lips with a compass ; all was 
immoveable ; he was dead, and I could not believe it. Physical pain at length made me 
cease this useless contemplation. My left leg was paralyzed, and I felt a trembling, an 
extraordinary movement ; I experienced besides a general shaldng, a sense of oppression 
and irregidar throbbiags at my heart. The'most sinister reflections came into my mind. 
Was I going to perish like my \inhappy companion ? I thought so by my sufferings, 
and nevertheless reason told me that the danger was over. With the greatest difficulty 
I reached the village of Alt-khann. My instruments had been similarly struck by the 
thunder." 

But when the newly fallen snow has effaced all traces of the path in those elevated 
regions, above the zone of the arbutus and rhododendron, when the avalanches or the 
violence'of the -winds liave carried off the black poles which mark the com-se of the road, 
it is not possible to ascend with safety to the higher parts of the mountaia. The 
traveller must advance with cautious steps, soimding as he proceeds, as in an unknown 
sea beset with shoals ; the most experienced guides hesitate as to the direction they 
shoidd take ; for in that snowy wilderness the horizon is bounded by icy peaks, affording 
few landmarks to direct their steps, even if they should be perceived for a few moments 
from amidst the mantle of clouds which usually envelope their summits. 

The immense labours which are requisite, during the winter season, to ojpen this 
passage, are, therefore, at once apparent. For an extent of five leagues, from the village 
of Splugen to that of Isola, it is necessary either to clear away the snow, so as to come to 
the earth, or to force a passable road over its top ; and the most indefatigable efforts 
cannot always secure success in such an enterprise. The frequent variations of the 
atmosphere, the clouds which suddenly rise up from the valleys beneath, the terrible 
storms of wind which arise in these elevated regions, the avalanches which descend with 
irresistible force from the overhanging glaciers, destroy in an instant the labours of weeks, 
and obliterate prodigious toils of human industry under a mountain of snow. 

Such were the difficidties which stared Macdonald in the face, in the first mountain 
ridge which lay before him in the passage of the Alps. He arrived in the evening of 
the 26th of November, at the village of Splugen, the point where the mountain passage 
jnaj properly be said to begin, with a company of sappers, and the first sledges carrying 



476 SWirZERLAND. 

the artillery. The guides placed poles along the ascent ; the labourers felled and cleared 
away the snow ; and the strongest dragoons next marched to beat down the road by their 
horses' feet. Already, after incredible fatigue, they had nearly reached the summit, when 
the wind suddenly rose, an avalanche fell from the mountain, and, sweeping across the 
road, cut right through the column and precipitated thirty dragoons near its head into 
the gulf beneath, where they were dashed to pieces between the ice and the roads, never 
to be heard of more. General Laboissiere, who led the van, was ahead of the cataract of 
snow, and reached the hospice ; but the remainder of the column, thunderstruck by the 
catastrophe, returned to Splugen ; and the wind, which continued for three daj's to blow 
with great violence, detached so many avalanches that the road was entirely blocked up 
in the higher regions, and the guides declared that no possible efforts could render it 
passable in less than fifteen days. 

Macdonald was not, however, to be daunted by any such obstacles. Independent of 
his anxiety to fidfil his destined part in the campaign, necessity urged him on ; for the 
unwonted accumulation of men and horses in those elevated Alpine regions promised 
very soon to consume the whole subsistence of the country, and expose the troops to the 




KOCK WITH INSCRIPTION RESrECTING THE INUNDATIONS. 

greatest danger for actual want. He instantly made the best arrangements which 
circumstances would admit for rc-opening the passage. First marched four of the 
strongest oxen that could be found in the Grrisons, led by the most experienced guides ; 
they were followed by forty robust peasants, who cleared or beat down the snow ; two 
companies of sappers succeeded, and improved the track ; behind them marched the 
remnant of the squadron of dragoons, which had suffered so much on the first ascent, 
and who bravely demanded the post of danger in renewing the attempt. After them came 
a convoy of artillery, and a hundred beasts of burden, and a strong rearguard closed the 
party. By incredible efforts, the head of the column, before night, reached the hospice ; 
and although many men and horses were swallowed up in the ascent, the order and 
discipline so necessary to the success of the enterprise was maintained throughout. They 
here joined General Laboissiere, who continued the same efforts on the Italian side, and 
led this adventurous advanced guard in safety to the sunny fields of Campo Dolcinos, at 
the southern base of the mountain. Two other columns, arranged in the same order, 
followed on the 2nd and 3rd of December, in clear frosty weather, with much less 
difficulty, because the road was beaten down by the footsteps of those who had preceded 



TASS OV THE SPI.Uf:F,X. 



477 



them ; but several men died from the exces,s-ive cold on the higher parts of the 
m^ountain. 

Encouraged by this success, the remainder of the army advanced to Splugen on the 
4th of December ; and Macdonald, leaving only a slight rearguard on the northern side 




of the mountain, commenced his march on the morning of the -jth, at the head of 7,000 
men. Though no tempest had been felt in the deep valleys of the Rhine, the snow had 
fallen during the night in such quantities, that from the A^ery outset the traces of the 
trade were lost, and the road required to bs made anew, as at tho commencement of the 
ascent. The guides refused to proceed; but Macdonald insisted on making the attempt, 



478 



SWITZERIAND. 



and after six hours of imlieard-of fatigue, the head of his column succeeded in reaching 
the summit. 

In the narrow plain between the glaciers, however, they found the road blocked up by 
an immense mass of snow, formed by an avalanche newly fallen, upon which the guides ' 
refused to enter ; and in consequence the soldiers turned, unanimously declaring the 
passage was closed. Instantly hastening to the front, Macdonald revived the sinking 
spirits of his men, eiacouraged the faltering guides, and advancing himself at the head 
of the column, pKinged into the perilous mass, and sounding every step as he advanced 
with a long staff, which often sank into the abj'ss. " Soldiers," said he, " the armjr of 
reserve has surmounted the St. Bernard ; you must overcome the Splugen : your glory 
requires that you should rise victorious over difficulties to appearance insuperable. Your 
destinies call yoii into Italy ; advance and conquer, first the mountains and the snow, 
then the plains and the armies." 

Roused alike by his words and his example, the troops and the peasants redoubled 
their efforts. The Vast walls of ice and snow were cut through ; and although the 
hm-ricane increased with frightful rapiditj^, and filled up the excavations thus made, they 
at length succeeded in rendering the passage practicable. The tempest continued to 
blow with di-eadful violence dming the passage of the hospice and the descent of the 
Cardinal ; the colimms were repeatedly cut through by avalanches, which fell across the 
road, and more than one regiment was entirely dispersed in the icy wilderness. At 
length, by the heroic exertions of the officers, whom the example of their general had 
inspired with extraordiiiarj^ ardour, the head-quarters reached Isola, and rested there 
during the two succeeding days, to rally the i-egiments, which the hardships of the 
passage had broken into a confused mass of insulated men; but above one himdred 
soldiers, and as many horses and mules, Wfere swallowed up in the abysses of the 
mountains. 

Alison renitoks tin this extraordinary achievement : " The passage of the Splugen bj^ 
Macdonald is the most memoi'able and extraordinaiy undertaking of the kind recorded 
in modern wal', so fai' as the obstacles of nature are Concerned. It yields only to the 
march of Suwarrow ovisr the St. Gothard, the Schiichenthal, and the Engiberg, where, in 
addition to similar natural difficulties, the efforts of an able and indefatigable enemy 
were to be overcome. The passage of the St. Bernard by Napoleon in fine weather, and 
without oppositioUj will bear no comparison with either the one or the other. That he ■ 
himself was conscious of this, is obvious from the strHdng terms of disparagement in 
which he speaks of Macdonald's exertions in this passage ; an instance of that jealousy 
of every rivalj in any of his great achievements, which is almost unaccoimtable in so 
great a man. 'The joassage of the Splugen,' says^e, 'presented without doubt some 
difficulties ; but winter is by no meaiis the season of the year in which such operations 
are conducted with most difficulty ; the snow is then firm, the wecdlier settled, and there 
is nothing to fear from the avalanches, which constitute the true and only danger to be 
apprehended in the Alps. In December you often meet with the finest weather, on 
these elevated mountains, of dry frost, during which the air is jjerfectly calm.' " 
" Napoleon," ii., 61, 62. Recollecting that this was written after the first consul had 
received the full details from Macdonald of the extraordinary difficulties of the passage, 
it is inexcusable, and clearly betrays a consciousness of the inferiority of his own passage 
over the St. Bernard. In his official despatch, written by order of the first consul, to 
Macdonald, Berthier says : " I have received the relation which the chief of your stafi" 
has transmitted to me, relative to the passage of the Splugen by the army which you 
command. I have communicated the details to the consuls, and they have enjoined me 
to make known to you their high satisfaction at the intrepidity and heroic constancy . 
which the officers, and soldiers, and generals, have evinced in this passage, which will 



ROUTE OF MACDONALD. 4/9 

form a memorable epoch in our military annals. , The consuls, confident in your talents, 
behold with interest the new position of the army of the Grrisons. I impatiently expect 
the details of the celebrated passage of the Splugen, and the losses which it occasioned, 
to enable them to appreciate the admiration and gratitude which is due to the chiefs and 
soldiers of your army." ' 

It was equally imworthy of Napoleon to say in his memoirs : " The march of Macdonald 
produced no good effect, and contributed in no respect to the success of the campaign ; 
for the corps of Baraguay d'Hilliers, detached into the Upper Engadine, was too weak to 
effect anything of importance. Macdonald arrived at Trent on the 7th of January, when 
the enemy was already chased from it by the left of the army of Italy, by the corps under 
the orders of Moncey and Eochambeau." Had JSTapoleon forgotten that Macdonald's 
advance, by paralysing Landon and Wukassowich, enabled Beune to achieve the passage 
of the Mincio ; and that, if it had not been for the credulity of Moncey, he would have 
compelled the sm-render of the former at La Pietra, with 7,000 men ? The great truth, 
" Magna est Veritas et pra3valebit," does not seem ever to have crossed Napoleon's mind ; 
he never contemplated the minute examiaation to which his account of transactions would 
be exposed by posterity, and thought he could deceive future ages, as he did his own, by 
means of sycophantish writers and an enslaved press. 

The route which conducts across the Bernardino becomes identified with that over the 
Splugen, the union of which, along the Ehine, forms the great liae- of social and com- 
mercial intercourse with Coire, WaUenstadt, the Lake of Constance, Germany on the 
right, the whole course of the Rhenish provinces to the forts of Holland, and, in a word, 
between the shores of the Levant and the German Ocean. 

The opening of this new pass, which had previously been only practicable for beasts of 
burden, was acted on in the course of 1816. Down to the period which, ten years before,' 
witnessed the completion of the great routes over Moimt Cenis and the Simplon, the 
passes over the Brenner and Tende were the onty media of transport upon which wheel 
carriages could be employed. But now that peace was re-established, national prejudices 
subsiding, and a spirit of commercial enterprise revived, the Grisons entered into arrange • 
ments for carrying their plans into effect. After six years' labour, kept up with great 
skill and activity, and often under circumstances of much personal risk, this magnificent 
route was finally opened in 1824, and is now one of the best and safest thoroughfares of 
the Alps. 

The road from Coire to Haldenstein is highly interesting. The beautiful verdure of 
the meadows, the sloping hills covered -v^th viaes, the craggy mountains partly covered 
with the same trees, partly overspread with wood, and partly showing only their rugged 
fronts, form altogether a striking prospect. Crossing the Rhine, the small village of 
Haldensteia is reached. 

The barony of Haldenstein was formerly under the protection of the seven ancient 
cantons of Switzerland. Since the year 1568, it became an independent sovereignty, 
under the protection of the three leagues. In the middle of the sixteenth centmy it was 
possessed in right of marriage by John de Cashron, French ambassador to the republic of 
the Grisons, and at his death pssaed into the hands of another family, and ultimately 
into those of one person. , 

The whole barony consists of a small semicircular plain, which Hes between the Rhine 
and the bottom of the Caludar, aboiit five miles in length, and scarcely one in breadth. 
It occupies also part of the mountain which is too steep to be inhabited. It contains 
two villages, those of Haldenstein and Sewils. The people were serfs until the year 1701, 
when the ruling baron granted them several immunities. Long after that time he had 
the exclusive privilege of hunting and fishing, a claim of two days' work annually from 
each of his subjects, and a load of dung from every peasant. He appointed the judge 



480 GWITZF.RI^^XD. 

in the criminal court, received the fines for oiFences, from, which he paid the expenses of 
the process, and had the power of pardoning. He nominated the president and part of 
the jury in civil causes, and in all cases of appeal, judges in the last resort. In the 
year 1611, the Emperor Matthias conferred the right of coining money on the Baron of 
Haldenstein. 

The ancient castle of Haldenstein, from which the barons took their titles, has long 
been in ruins. Above it, on the mountain sides, is another ruined castle called Lichten- 
stein, from which it is said the princes of that name derived their title. One of the 
princes was indeed so convinced of his descent from the ancient possessors of this castle, 
and so proud of their antiquity, that he was at the cost of forcing a stone from these 
ruins for the foundation-stone of a superb palace which he buUt at Vienna, that it might 
be said to contain some materials of the original castle in which his ancestors once 
resided. 

Misocco is charmingly situated. In the middle of the valley is the ruined castle of 
Misocco, a feudal seat of the powerful lords of Misox or Mosos, sold by them in 1482 to 
Trivulzio, the celebrated Milanese general, and destroj^ed by the people of the Grrisons. 
Its beauty was greatly diminished by a tei'rific storm and inundation which occurred in 
August, 1834. With resistless force, the waters tore up whatever was in their course, 
spreading desolation around. A huge mass bears an inscription as a ■ memorial of 
the catastrophe. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 



'I'lIE JUI-IER PASS THE INN THE EKGADINE TTIH BERNINA PASS. 

De. James Johnson, when prosecuting his philosophical researches on the Rhastian 
Alps, was an eye-witness to their frightful devastation. Great disasters were severally 
experienced by the cantons of XJri, Vallais, and Tessin, but we limit ourselves to the 
catastrophes which occurred in this part of Switzerland. A storm, coming from the 
west, extended itself over the whole countr}' of the Grisons, and continued its ravages, 
without interruption, to the following day. Innumerable cataracts, suddenly discharged 
from the mountains, carried away everything that opposed their course. An immense 
quantity of trees, fifty houses, and upwards of thirty bridges, were either destroyed or 
entirely swept off by the torrents. The magnificent route between Coire and the 
Splugen, and chiefly in the Schamserthal, was almost entirely obliterated; the vast 
embankments were broken down, and that beautiful valley was transformed into a lake, 
when the waters, swollen to a height far exceeding the disastrous inundation of 1817, 
carried off several inhabitants and much cattle. In this district alone, the damage was 
estimated at upwards of one million of florins. Other vallej^s suffered severely. In the 
Oberland the bridges were all, or nearly all, destroyed. In the village of Splugen five 
men perished ; a handsome building lately erected, a dozen other houses, the great stone 
bridge over the Seranda, were all swept down by the torrent, and it was only with the 
greatest difficultj^ and hazard of life that the bridge over the Rhine was saved. Between 
Splugen and Naufanen the dykes gave way, and several houses and sheds of cattle were 
borne down by the torrent. In one of these houses, the family were quietly seated at 
their evening meal only an hour before. 

The Jidier pass, in the Grisons, is estimated at 8,134 feet above the level of the sea, 
and its ascent may be effected from Stalla, called also Bivio, in about two hours. From 
the avalanches which threaten the traveller in other parts of Switzerland, this portion of 
the covmtry is remarkably exempt. But then his expectations must not be high of 
looking again at the grand or the sublime, lest there be a frequent result. 

On the summit of the pass there are two roughly hewn granite pillars, called Julius's 
Columns. The stone was dug from the neighbouring mountains, it is supposed, bj"- the 
Romans. Murray says : " They are about four feet high, and destitute of inscription ; 
but may have been set up as mile-stones in the time of Augustus, who caused a Roman 
highway to be carried from Chiavenna, over the passes of the Maloja and Jidier. A 
carriage-road was formed across the pass of St. Mauritz in 1823 ; but as no attemjDt was 
made till very lately to improve the approach to it through the Oberhalbstein, little 
advantage was gained by it. Flocks of Bergamesque sheep arc often found on the 
highest pastures, near the summit of the pass, in summer. A still more easy descent 
leads into the Engadine, to the village of Silva Plana." 



482 SWITZEIILAND. 

The Pass of the Albula is described as follows, with his usual felicity, by the so-called 
Derwent Conwaj' : — 

" At seven o'clock I left Bergun, and immediately began to ascend. From Bergun to 
the first interior valley, there is a road practicable for small carts ; for there some 
hamlets are scattered, and there, too, lies an Alpine village. This road mounts by the 
side of a torrent, skirting some little fields of scanty produce, and soon enters a narrow 
gorge, which affords room only for the torrent and the narrow road that is excavated out 
of the tremendous rock that towers above it. There is here the cheapest road-maker in 
the world. The mountain is the road-maker, and never relaxes in its labours : it is of a 
crumbling nature, and, by incessant contributions, it constantly fills up the cavities which 
are formed by the rains. When the road had wound round this rock, I found myself 
entering a tolerably extensive Alpine valley, on all sides surrounded by the rocky peaks 
and snowy summits of the Albula. Here, too, as at Bergun — here, too, as in the more 
fruitful valleys — man had foimd a home, and found that life was sweet. There was his 
habitation — there the flocks, his riches ; and if there was no village inn, where the 
Grisons might assemble to congratulate each other upon their privileges, there was the 
little bridge that spanned the torrent, or the fir-tree that lay by the way-side. 

" This valley is about a league in length ; and, after having traversed it, the path — for 
it is no longer a road — ascends a narrow defile among the bold rocks that lie around the 
little Lake of Wissenstein. I found the ascent laborious ; but the scenery around amply 
compensated the labour, for it was of the most varied and striking character. Fine 
girdle's of dark fir spanned the waists of the rocks, whose gray and rugged heads rose in 
vast amphitheatre. Below the firs, and among the lower rocks, lay the freshest verdurej 
watered by innumerable rills that were seen higher up in white threads of foam among 
the rocks. Here and there was a chalet — here and there a little flock ; but these became 
rarer. The path surmounted the fir; and at a sudden turn I found myself on the 
borders of a little lake, and beside the chalet, where the traveller may find mountain 
fare. This lake lies extremely high, and possesses the character of every lake foimd in 
such elevations — a character, in some things, perhaps slightly varying, but whose general 
features must necessarily be alike. A few stunted firs were scattered about the lower 
end, where the water was shallow; but on all the other sides, it lay still and dark 
and treeless, beneath the frightful pi-ecipices that towered above. 

" The ascent from the lake is extremely rapid ; it remains in sight more than an hour, 
and is then shut out by a ledge of the higher rocks that are connected with the summits 
of the mountain. And now a scene opened before me to whose sublimity, I fear, I shall 
be able to render but imperfect justice. When I speak of this scene, I do so with a 
perfect recollection of other scenes that I have beheld in other parts of the Alps, in the 
Pyrenees, in the Carpathian mountains, and in Norway ; and I feel that I may do 
perfect justice to all of these, and yet assert the superiority of this part of Moimt Albula, 
in all that constitutes that kind of sublimity which arises from the presence of 
desolation. . The defile I had now entered was from one to two miles broad, and three 
or four in length ; it was environed by the highest summits of the mountain. These 
rose almost perpendicularly from the defile, in some places showing precipices of two 
or three thousand feet ; in other places presenting a front of towers and pinnacles, 
and displaying enormous gaps, where nothing but the torrent had entered, and vast 
caves where the eagle only had ever rested. Above all, the highest peaks — powdered with 
enow, but too rugged and pointed to allow it a resting-place — jutted into* the sky, leaving 
to the spectator below a horizon as limited as the defile. But all that I have yet spoken 
of, though of itself svifiicient to form a picture of great power, faUs infijutely short of 
what remains to be describedi Within the whole of this bounded horizon, not 
one blade of verdure was to be seen — not one of those mountain plants, those 



THE PASS (JF THE ALBULA. 483 

Alpine flowers, that often bloom on the borders of eternal winter, and that, springing on 
the chasms of the baldest rocks, lend, at times, the charm cf gentleness and beauty to 
the most savage scene. But here desolation had reared his throne, and ruin lay around 
it. The whole extent of the defile was one mass of enormous stones that lay piled upon 
each other ; it was as if two mountains of rock had here waged war, and been shivered 
in the conflict. Do not suppose, in figuring these scenes to yourself, that rocks and 
stones lie scattered over the exteat of this defile. This would be but a very imperfect 
de.scription of what it is. In many places the stones are piled upon each other to the 
height of some himdred feet ; and to what depth thej^ may lie even on the track by 
which you pass, no one can tell. This, howfever, I know — in ascending higher than this 
defile, the river is seen to enter it in several concentrated streams, and, below the defile, 
it is again seen to enter the lake I have mentioned ; and, in passing through the defile, 
at some d6ep openings and gaps, you may hear the distant rush of waters far below, 
indicating, by the faintness of the sound, the great depth at which they find a channel. 

" I have never been more strongly impressed by any scene than by this. It realised, 
more than any scene I had ever beheld, the conception of chaos, 'treeless, herbless, 
lifeless.' jNTot even the fowl of the desert could have here found one fruit of the 
wilderness, nor one gushing stream whereat to slake his thirst. This curse of utter 
sterility I myself experienced. The breakfast I had made at Bergim was not well 
calculated for a jouruej' in a hot dry day across the moimtains ; and in this defile, where 
not a breath of aii- could enter, and where the sun shone down with great power, a well 
of the desert would have been welcome. I found, however, a shelter from the sun's rays ; 
and it is only amid scenes like these that we are able to understand the force of the 
expression, ' the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.' 

" When I had traversed this defile by a gradual ascent, I entered upon the third and 
last division of the pass. Here I found the stream, which, ia a succession of rapids and 
cataracts, comes from the highest interior valley, where the snow is accumulated to a 
great depth. The ascent here is extremely rapid ; and the scenery, although it has lost 
that character of utter desolation which presides lower down, yet retains much grandeur, 
mingled with a few of those graces that are found in Alpine scenery. Here and there I 
found a scanty herbage, and innumerable beautiful mosses. The ranunculus and the 
moimtain anemone bloomed at my feet ; and the rocks, ashamed of their nakedness, were 
covered with the crimson blossoms of the rhododendron. 

" About an hour and a half after lea^ong the defile, the highest part of the pass ia 
attained. Here one is still in a valley, though its sides do not rise more than a, thousand 
feet above it. I foimd a good deal of snow, and occasionally some difficulty in passing ; 
but, after an hour's walk, I began to descend, and a scene soon opened below very 
different from that which I have attempted to describe. The southern interior valleys of 
Moimt Albula are among the most esteemed in all iSwitzerland for the pasture of cattle, 
which are brought there even from some of the remoter cantons. In the country of the 
Grrisons, every village has its mountain, or its part of a mountain, to which the 
inhabitants have free access for the grazing of their cattle ; and when herds arrive 
from places beyond its liberty, they are permitted to graze, upon payment of a certain 
small portion of the produce of the dairy, to the village enjoying the liberty of the 
mountaia. 

"It was a beaiitiful sight to look down on the southern side of Moimt Albula ; 'the most 
charming verdure covered the slopes and the valleys, and the flocks of a hvmdred hiUs 
seemed there to be congregated. The distant, and not unmusical, chime of their 
thousand bells, miagled with the faint lowing, came sweetly up the mountain ; and the 
beauty and interest of the scene was greatly increased by the recollection of the lifeless^ 
desolate wilderness that I had newly quitted; 

2 I 2 



^81 



SWiTZERLANU. 



of grandeur and sublimity aro indeed glorious, and by them we are called from 
the .Kttleness of life to a contemplation of the majesty of that which is more enduring. 
Unutterable, indeed, is the charm that holds ns in the depth of the silent valley, and 
among the dark and mighty mountains ; but still there is, in pictures of life and happiness, 




in scenes of a more tranquil and gentler kind, a language that speaks more univei-sally 
to the human heart ; and this I found in the contrast between the desolate grandeur of 
the defile and the green and life-like aspect of the mountain slopes. 

'' Less than an hour brought me among the cattle, and another hour led me to their habi- 
tations. For the double purpose of quenching my thirst, and of seeing the interior of 



TEUFEL CASTLE. 485 

these mountain-dairies, I left the track to visit one of them. One or two large and 
fierce-looking dogs opijosed my entrance ; but a shepherd, who had doubtless his own 
interest in view, smoothed the way, and conducted me into the interior. In the outer 
part of the chalet there was room for upwards of three hundred cattle, and the inner part 
consisted of two rooms, one where the milk is kept, and the other where the cheese is 
made. There is besides a kind of loft, where the men emploj^ed in the dairy sleep. For 
every fifty cows there is generally one man. They are each allowed about 16 florins per 
month, which, at the value of a florin in that country, is about twenty-nine shillings. 
They are, of course, allowed nourishment besides, which consists of bread, salted meat, 
and as much cheese, butter, and milk as they please. The term of their employment is 
generally about four months. It is evident, therefore, that the occupation of a shepherd 
of the Alps requires some knowledge. It is not merely looking after the cattle, and 
leaning upon his crook : he must know all the mysteries of the dair)-, which are neither 




PEUIEI CiSTLE, NLiR THE JULIEE PASS. 



few nor simple ; and judging from the excellence of its productions throughout the 
greater part of Switzerland, these shepherds must be well versed in their trade. I found 
those of Mount Albula civil, communicative, and tolerably intelligent. They seemed to 
feel considerable pride in showing me their utensils, which, indeed, they well might, 
for nothing could be cleaner, or in more excellent order, than the utensils which con- 
tained the produce of the dairy, in all its varieties of milk, cream, butter, and cheese. 
Every traveller has spoken of the excellence of the milk he has drank among the Alps, 
and I must needs add my testimony to that of others ; though I must acknowledge that 
I thought it inferior to the milk I have drank in Norway, and I may perhaps add, in the 
Highlands of Scotland. It is certainly no recommendation to the thirsty traveller — at 
least, it ought to be none — that milk is rich. It is indeed a delicious, but scarcely a 
refreshing beverage ; and if the traveller will take my advice, he will follow my example, 
and drink the milk which has been already deprived of the cream. 

" After leaving the dairy, I went rapidly down the mountain, and, passing through 



486 SAVITZEIU^ND, 

the region of fir, I foixnd myself, in about two hours, in the lowest defile, from which I 
occasionally caught glimpses of the valley below ; and, about five in the afternoon, I 
reached the village of Pont, in the Ober, or Upper Engadine. I need scarcely add, that 
the descent into the Engadine is less, by at least 2,000 feet, than the ascent from Bergun 
— the village of Pont lying at an elevation of no less than 4,800 feet above the level of 
the Mediterranean." 

" The Inn, during its progress in this part," says Coxe, " is very unlike most of the 
rivers which I traced in my former route. The Rhone, the Reuss, and the Aar, for 
instance, fall, near their sources, in a continual cataract, over fragments of rock, and 
through the most wild and uninhabited tracts of country ; while this river direets its 
course through a cultivated and populotis district, in an equable, unbroken stream. The 
country is picturesque, and its beauties are of a milder cast than are usual in these 
Alpine regions. The burghs, or villages, are pleasantly dotted abovit the plain, at the 
.'istance of about a mile from each other. Each village contains about fifty or a hundred 
houses, standing contiguous ; these habitations are of stone, plastered and whitewashed, 
and are in such excellent repair, that they appear as if they had been newly constructed. 
The spirit of neatness, indeed, is so general in Upper Engadine, that I scarcely observed 
one bad house through the whole district ; and even the barns are as good as the 
cottages in many countries. 

" Mr. Planta received me with great politeness and cordiality, and invited me to 
supper ; and as the evening was not set in, he accompanied me to what is called the 
camp of Drusus, which I was desirous of examining. 

" You recollect the campaigns which Drusus, the adopted son of Augustus, and 
brother of Tiberius, carried on against the fierce inhabitants of these mountainous 
countries ; and which Horace, in compliment to his patron, has alluded to in the 
following passages : — 

' Videre Rliccti bello sulj Alpibus 
Drusiini gerentem et Viiidclici ;' 
and afterwards — 



Alijibiis impositas tremendas 
Dcjeoit aoer plus vice simplici.' 

" This campaign of Drusus against the Rhsetians was attended with great success, and he 
defeated the barbarous inhabitants, before deemed unconquerable (indomitosque Rhsetos), 
with great slaughter. The supposed remains of his camp consist of several deep pits, 
and a mound of earth about thirty feet high and sixty paces in circumference. These 
works did not appear to me to be of Roman construction ; probably they are nothing 
more than a rude fortification thrown up during the turbulent times, when the barons of 
the country were engaged in perpetual acts of hostility ; a desire to ' render them 
venerable by the remoteness of their origin and the splendour of the Roman, name, 
seems the only cause of their being attributed to Drusus." 

Upper Engadine, the Yalley of the Upper Inn, is divided into two communities, 
called Setto and Sopra Fontana Merla, from their situation above or below that 
spring. They have both the same court of criminal justice, which is held at Lutz, 
and consists of the landamman of Setto, who is president, and sixteen jurj^men, called 
Trouadors, taken equally from each district. Justice is more equitably administered 
in this court than in any other throughout the Grrisons, excepting at Coire ; a cir- 
cumstance which arises from the following causes. The code of criminal laws was 
composed in 1563 by one Juvalta, who had been envoy from the Republic of the 
Grisons to Venice, and had there imbibed more enlarged conceptions of jurispru- 
dence than at that time prevailed among his rude coimtrymen. This code was 



UPPEE ENGADINE. 487 

flrawn up in Latin, and in 1644 was translated into Romansh. The fines enjoined 
for criminal offences do not belong to the judges but to the community. The 
expenses of the process are defrayed, and a salary is allowed to the judges, from the 
public fund ; the judges by these means, being not so much interested to convict the 
prisoner, are not so ready, as some of their predecessors in office, to employ the horrid 
exiDedient of torture for the purpose of enforcing confession. 

Another cause of the equity observable in this court is the mode of electing the judges. 
They are not, as in many of the other communities, chosen by the people collectively 
assembled, but by sixteen deputies who represent the several districts. By these means 
the election is carried on with more prudence, and with a greater attention to the 
qualifications of the judges, than can be expected amidst the confusion of a popular 
meeting. 

The same deputies choose all the civil magistrates by a majority of voices ; and finally 
decide all legislative and political questions, which have before been separately proposed to 
the several districts which they represent. Their constituents have the power (which 
they frequently exercise) of peremptorily directing their vote. It is, however, no 
inconsiderable alleviation of the mischiefs frequently attendant on governments purely 
democratical, that the whole body of the populace on no occasion assemble on one spot, 
but discuss matters in detached parties, and send the result of their deliberation by their 
representatives. 

Upper En'gadine is a very beautiful vallej'-, yet, on accoimt of its elevation, it produces 
nothing but pasture, and a small quantity of rye and barlej^. The winter sets in early 
and ends late, during which time sledges are the ordinary vehicles. The air, even in the 
month of August, is sometimes cold and piercing, and the corn in the midst of summer 
is occasionally much damaged by the hoar frosts. Hence the Italian proverb — 

" Eugadina Terra Fina, se iion fosse la pruiua."* 
As the district does not always yield sufficient productions for the maintenance of the 
inhabitants, many of them migrate into foreign coimtries ; the gentry in the military line, 
as is common through Switzerland ; others in the capacity of mechanics, tradesmen, and 
merchants ; their favourite occupation is to keep cofiee-houses or pastry-cooks' shops in 
different parts of Italy and France. Generally two persons enter into partnership to 
carry on the same trade : one stays in his own country, and the other attends the business 
for a j^ear, when he is relieved by his partner, and returns to his family for the same 
term. These partners are commonly as faithful as they are industrious ; they annually 
bring considerable sums of money into this district, which is esteemed the richest among 
the Grisons. 

Many of the inhabitants feed numerotis herds of cattle in the summer months upon 
the Upper Alps, and export large quantities of cheese and butter. In the autumn, when 
pasture begins to be scarce, they send a great part of the cattle for sale into the Tyrol. 
The inhabitants live very much upon salted meat, particularly in winter, on account of 
the dearness of fodder. The bread of the country is mostly brownish ; it is baked in 
little round cakes, only two or three times in the year, and becomes so hard that it is 
sometimes broken with a hatchet ; it is not an unpleasant food with cheese or butter, 
which are very conxmon. The greatest part of the butter is made on the Alps ; it is 
afterwards melted, put into bottles, and frequently continues good during the whole year. 
The wine of the Valteline is much esteemed, and is by no means scarce in this coimtry ; 
it bears keeping to a very considerable age. Some wine has been tasted from the cask, 
of a very fine flavour, and more than fifty years old, although it grows sour in the space 
of three years in the warm climate of the Yalteline. 

* Engadine -would be a fine country, if there were no frosts. 



488 



SWITZERLAND. 



The people are for the most part remarkabty polite and well bred ; " they bow to me," 
says Coxe, " as I pass, with great civility,' and will perform any kind offices in the 
readiest and most obliging manner. I am," indeed, no less delighted with the manners 
of the inhabitants, their politeness and hospitality, than with the romantic scenery of the 
country. , Although many of the natives spend a great portion of their time in foreign 
parts, they seldom lose their attachment to Engadine ; and return with great eagerness 
to their family and friends after their/occasional absence." 

The inhabitants of Upper Engadine are computed at about four thousand, and out of 
these, four or five hundred, upon an average, earn their livelihood in foreign countries. 




THE BLRMNA PiSS. 



The valley of Upper Engadine, from Celerina to a few miles beyond Scampf, is nearly 
level ; it is enclosed between two ridges of mountains, which are highest at Oelerina, 
and gradually diminish in height and ruggedness. About Zutz and Scampf is the finest 
part of the valley ; it there produces some rye and barley, and the mountains are clothed 
with verdure to their very summits. Beyond Scampf the plain ends ; and the river Inn, 
which had hitherto winded in a gentle course, is contracted into a narrow channel, and 
falls into continual cataracts. The road ascends and descends along the sides of the 
mountains, and the country is thickly overspread with woods of fir and pines. 

A small bridge is thrown over a precipice, and overlooks a foaming cataract. It is 



LOWER ENGADTNE. 



489 



called, in the language of the countiy, Pont Alia, or High Bridge, and forms the sejDara- 
tion between Upper and Lower Engadine. The road from the lake of Siglio to Pont 
Alta is sufficiently hroad to contain two or three carriages abreast. 

The House of Austria offered to defray the whole expense of this undertaking. The 




^>'ltlMl'l 



inhabitants of Upper Engadine, although they declined with a spirit of disinterestedness 
the offer of indemnification, immediately carried the plan into execution within their 
own territories ; but the intrigues of the citizens of Coire, whose interest woiild have 
greatly suffered by the new arrangement, together with an inveterate persuasion that 



"490 SWITZERIjiND, 

good roads would render the country too accessible to the neighbouring powers, prevented 
the people of Pregalia and Lower Engadine from co-operating in this useful project ; 
accordingly that part of this road which runs through their districts remains in its 
original state. 

Cernetz is situated in a small rich plain, bounded by two ridges of mountains converging 
at both extremities. This plain produces wheat, barley, rye, flax, and abundance of rich 
pasture. There is an essential difference between the climate of this little plain and that 
of Upper Engadine ; it is much warmer, and has all its natural pi'oductions much 
further advanced towards maturity. Large quantities of wood are felled upon these 
mountains, and floated down the Inn as far as Inspruck. In this plain the Inn is joined 
by the large torrent Spaelg, that descends from the moimtains of Bormio. By the side of 
this torrent, and at the extremity of a narrow pass leading to Bormio and Munster, there 
is a square tower, which in 1624 the Marquis de Cteuvres garrisoned with a body of 
French and Grison troops, in order to check the motions of the Austrian army posted at 
"Mimster. The pass is still further fortified by a stone wall, carried irom the foot of an 
inaccessible rock to the tower, and from thence to the torrent. 

The IMarquis de Crcuvres, to whom the guard of this important pass was committed, 
was son of the Marquis d'Etrees ; he was brought up to the church, and created Bishop 
of JSTojron ; but upon the death of his elder brother renounced the ecclesiastical line, and 
embraced the profession of arms. He distinguished himself in several campaigns imder 
Henrjr IV., and was afterwards employed in the reign of Louis XIII. as ambassador to 
Turin and Rome. In 1624 he was appointed ambassador extraordinary to the republic 
of the Grisons, and commander-in-chief of an army, composed of French and Swiss 
troops, sent to the assistance of the Grisons during the war of the Yalteline. He 
penetrated through Coire into Lower Engadine, and seized, without delay, the important 
pass just described ; by this manoeuvre he secured the only avenue by which he could 
open a passage to Bormio, the reduction of which place was followed by an almost 
immediate submission of the Valteline. For these important services, the Marquis, on ' 
his return to France, was created Due d'Etrees, and raised to the highest honours. He 
died in 1670, in the one hundred and second year of his age. 

Huldric Campel, the author of a valuable work on the Grisons, was born in the 
beginning of the sixteenth century, at Suss, in Lower Engadine, and made remarkable 
proficiency in every species of literature. He was one of the earliest reformers in this 
country, and became, by his active zeal, as well as by his extensive erudition, a great 
instrument in spreading the Reformation through the district. An event of little 
consequence, which happened in his family, gave rise to the sudden and wide dissemi- 
nation of the noAV doctrines, and ended in the abolition of the Roman Catholic 
religion. 

While he was absent, in 1537, upon the prosecution of his studies, his wife was 
delivered of a daughter, which was so sickly and weak, that it seemed upon the point of 
expiring. Gaspar Campel, father of Huldric, a man strongly addicted to the refornied 
doctrines, refused to have the child christened by the Popish priest of the parish, nor 
would suffer even the midwives to sprinkle it, according to the custom of the Romish 
church with holy water ; and, as there was no reformed minister at hand, he performed 
the ceremony of baptism himself. This act was looked upon in so hateful a light by 
the Roman Catholics of Suss, that they assembled in a tumultuous manner, and attacked 
Gaspar with siich fury, that he narrowly escaped assassination. His enemies then 
brought an accusation against him before the diet, which at first referred the cause to 
arbitration ; but no satisfactory decision being obtained from this mode of proceeding, a 
public conference was ordered to be held in the church of Suss, before deputies from the 
several communities, upon the following question : " Whether, if a child is born and 



HTJLDRIC CAMPEL. 491 

likely to die before a priest can be sent for, the baptism performed bj' a layman was 
preferable to that by mid wives ?" 

This ridiculous inquiry led to discussions of great moment. The reformed ministers 
refused to acknowledge any authoritj^ but that of the Holy Scriptures, while the 
Catholics considered the writings of the Fathers and decrees of the chm'ch as infallible ; 
each party, thus regarding every point through a diiferent medium, could not be 
prevailed on to adopt the-arguments of its antagonist ; and the dispute lasted seven days 
with little prospect of any satisfactory conclusion. A system of accommodation, however, 
at length ended the matter. The deputies decided, that in cases of extreme necessity, 
where no priest was present, either a layman or the midwives might baptize, that the 
former was preferable to the latter ; but, what was of the greatest consequence, they 
inculcated, that in regard to the other controverted points of faith debated in the course 
of this argument, every person might safely hold that doctrine which from full 
conviction he was persuaded to be accordant with the word of God. This conference was 
productive of the most beneficial effects ; for the people, who flocked thither in great 
numbers, were taught to consider the Holy Scriptures as the only authority in con- 
troverted questions ; and within the space of twenty years, the Reformation was 
completely established throughout Engadine. 

To return to Huldric Campel. He not only approved his father's conduct in the afiair 
of his daughter's baptism, but became a zealous proselyte to the new doctrines. Having 
entered into holy orders, he undertook the care of a reformed church in the valley of the 
Pretigau, where he was indefatigable in the performance of his duty and the propagation 
of the Protestant religion. In 1550 he was drawn to Suss by the friends of the 
Reformation, as a person the most qualified to combat the Roman Catholic church. His 
labours were attended with such success, that a short time after his appearance in his 
native place, mass was abolished, and the Reformation publicly ado]Dted. Nor was Suss 
the sole theatre of his exertions ; at Cernetz, and several other places, the persuasion of 
his eloquence, and the force of his arguments, gained a numerous train of converts. 

He passed the decline of his life at SchKns, where he was pastor, and persevered to the 
last period of his existence in disseminating and defending the doctrines of the reformed 
churches, as ably by his eloquence as he recommended them by his example. Amidst 
the occupation of religious duties, he foimd leisure to continue his history of the Grisons to 
1580. He died the foHowing j^ear at Schlins, in an extreme old age, leaving a name 
highly respectable in the religious and literary annals of his countrjr. 

The road from Cernetz to Scuol is a continual ascent and descent. The small plain of 
Cernetz soon ends, and is succeeded by a rude assemblage of rocks and forests. Siiss is 
situated in a narrow pass between the river Inn and a contiguous ridge of rocks a little 
beneath the ruins of an old castle; close to it is a small fertile plain, which agreeably 
diversifies the wildness of the rocks and forests. 

In the whole of the Engadine, the land belongs to the peasantry, who, like the 
inhabitants of every other place where this state of things exists, vary greatly in the 
extent of their possessions. If a peasant owns from eight to fifteen cows, and land 
sufficient for their support, as well as for growing what is consumed in his own familj^, 
he is esteemed in good circumstances. He consumes whatever part of the produce of his 
dairy is needed at home ; and he sells the surplus, chiefly the cheese, which he keeps 
till the arrival of the travelling merchant, who buys it for exportation. Generally 
speaking, an Engadine peasant lives entirely upon the produce of his land, with the 
exception of the few articles of foreign growth required in his family, such as coflfee, 
sugar, and wine. These he finds at the house of the innkeeper, who, in the Engadine, is 
always a retail dealer in siich articles ; for there is not a shop of any description in the 
Lower Engadine, and only one or two in the Upper Engadine. The peasant has his 



492 



awnZERIAND. 



own cheese, butter, milk, eggs ; and kills a pig or a cow occasionallj'-, if he can afford 
this, keeping a part of it fresh, selling a little to those who are not rich enough to kill 
any of their stock, and salting the rest for the use of his family. 

There cannot be said to be any regular markets throughout the Engadine, so that it 
is difficult to say what is the value of the different articles of subsistence. There is no 
occasion for markets, because it is nobody's interest either to sell or to buy. Sometimes, 
however, meat is offered for sale in sm.all quantities ; and sometimes an over-abundant, 
or a scanty suppl^^ of the articles of the dairy, tempts some one to sell, and forces others 
to buy. Wine is at all times moderate in price throughout the Engadine, and good in 
quality. Of course none is grown there ; it is all imported from the Valteline. The 
Grison of the Engadine is supplied from his own property with flax, which is grown, 
prepared, spun, and woven without ever leaving his house. He has, also, his own wool, 
which is converted into a blue coat, without passing through the hands of either the 
dyer or the tailor : the latter vocation is invariably exercised by the females of the 
house. 

The peojjle set a high value on their own advantages. " Hoav can we be otherwise than 




V.VLI.KY of SILVA 



ox the summit of Tllli EXGADIXF.. 



happy and contented," said they to a traveller, " when Ave have ample means of living^ 
and are dependent upon nobody for the least portion of that which contributes to our 
ease ?" This he admitted was much ; and when he hinted at the want of society, and 
the rigour of a nine months' winter, they made light of the latter, and immediately 
began to put him right in the view he took of their society. They assured him, that in 
winter no place was gayer than the Engadine. They said they had balls and parties 
every week, at which they danced merriljr and long, drank freely of the good wine of the 
Valteline, and ate of the excellent pastry for which the Grisons have attained so high a 
reputation. They admitted that their winter was indeed long and rigorous ; but then, 
of what consequence was this, when plenty of wood was to be had for nothing ? Such is, 
in truth, the privileges enjoyed by the villages of the Engadine. Every village has a 
certain mountain limit, within which all the wood is free, and may be cut down and 
carried away by any one who chooses to take that trouble. A privilege like this, doubt- 
less, smoothes the severities of a rigorous winter. 

Conway saw this part of the country under the most favourable circumstances : 
"It is certain," he says, "that I found every one contented; and in the Engadine, 
nothing more need be desired. It is not, indeed, in all cases a proof that a people enjoy 



THE JJliltNlNA PASS. 493 

the greatest possible happiness, merely because we find them contented with their 
condition. Ignorance and superstition may make a people contented with slaver3^ Of 
this we have, unfortunately, examples among the European nations. Sloth, and a low 
state of moral feeling, may render men contented with beggary and wretchedness, in a 
land the most favoured, where plenty might reign, and luxury revel : but the Engadine is 
not so situated ; and in place of grieving, as the patriot or the philanthropist may, at the 
spectacle of contentment, where contentment is indicative but of degradation, this 
general contentment among the Grisons of the Engadine is not to be deplored, for there 
is neither ignorance nor superstition, beggary nor wretchedness among them ; and the 
Engadine is not a country where discontent could produce any advantage to its 
inhabitants, because nothing can change their condition. The country is incapable of 
greater cultivation than it has received. All has been done for it that industry and an 
extreme love of gain can devise. Wherever an ear of rj'^e will ripen, there it is to be 
found. But in a country lying three and six thousand feet above the level of the soa 
(aiid this applies to the bottom of the valley, not to the mountain sides, which are 
greatly more elevated), industry wages an equal war against the elements. Summer 
does not begin till June, and ends early in September ; and even during its continuance, 
the ddigentlj' cultured fields are often laid waste by a desolating storm of hail, or 
entirely swept away by the resistless torrents that descend from the mountains." 

The road to Ardetz follows the course of the Inn, which murmurs below in a deep 
narrow channel, heard but not seen, " From Ardetz (over which hangs, upon a lofty 
rock, a ruined castle called Steinberg) I descended," says Coxe, " along a very steep 
craggy path to the river Inn, which I crossed, and mounted a rapid ascent, leaving on 
my right hand the valley of Scharla, in which there are silver mines belonging to the 
House of Austria. They were formerly very rich, and yielded a considerable advantage, 
but are now exhausted. I passed through the straggling village of Trasp, and close to a 
castle of the same name, situated upon the highest point ef a perpendicular rock. Count 
Dietrichstein, as lord of the castle, is a prince of the German empire ; it was given to his 
family by the emperor Leopold, on condition that its possessor should always vote in the 
diet of the empire for the House of Austria. The formality of a garrison is maintained 
in this castle by a single Austrian soldier." 

A very lofty chain of mountains, called the Bernina, separates the vallej^s of the 
Engadine and of Bregaglia, on the north, from Valteline on the south. They are of 
various elevations. They are crossed by several arduous paths, but the most frequented 
is the Bernina pass. " It is a wide path," Murray says, " practicable at its two extre- 
mities for cars, and traversed annually by seven hundred or eight hundred mules." 

It is a truly pleasing incident of travel, when enjojdng the scenery of such a land as 
that we are now about to leave, we are associated with those who sympathise with our 
feelings, and heartily respond to our expressions of delight. But to prevent frequent 
disappointment, it is well to remember, that many seem to go abroad for no such 
purpose : to say they have been at any place of which they hear, or they think it 
desirable to mention, appears to be their chief object, and only associated with another, 
whose claims must not, on any account, be set aside. Many a traveller might have sat 
for the picture which Mr. Noel has very vividly sketched : — 

" On board a certain steam-boat, a traveller, while we were dining at the table d'hote, 
paced the deck with apparent indifference to the entertainment ; but nothing was farther 
from his thoughts ; his sagacious eye was marking some dishes which experience or an 
intuitive knowledge of good cooking led him to regard as promising. His choice being 
made, he waited patiently till the bustle of twenty voices vociferating garcon, and five or 
six waiters, with the rapidity of lightning, flying from point to point, had subsided into 
the loquacious contentment which marks that a large company have dispatched a good 



494 SWllZERLAXD. 

dinner. And now his turn was come. The day being fine, and the scenery beautiful, 
every one was on deck, and the Englishman was almost as solitary in the cabin as Virgil's 
bird upon the sea-shore, which 

" ' Sola ill sicca secum spatiatui' arena.' 

But the Englishman did not mean to waste his time by strutting like the bird : the air 
had made his appetite keen ; a purple rotundity of visage marked that he >vas not 
indifferent to good cheer, and he was there for nothing else than to feed. There was 
remarkable deliberation and order in the proceedings ; which were thus opened : — 

" ' Waiter, gar con, bring me some dinner : comprenez ? ' 

" ' Yery well, sir.' 

" 'Cutlets, pommes de terre au maitre d'hotel, and sliced carrots.' 

" In a short time the cloth was laid, and the napkin was on his knee, three dishes 
smoked imder his nose, and his plate before him invited him to action. But before the 
waiter could retire, he exclaimed, 'Bring three plates.' The waiter stared. ' Trois 
assiettes, I say.' The waiter was confounded : what could he mean ? Upon which the 
Englishman, seeing that neither his English nor his French was understood, rushed to 
the steward's room, seized three plates, returned to his table, followed by the waiter, 
whose imagination was completely baffled by this rapid movement, and, placing the three 
plates upon the three dishes, exclaimed, 'Comme c'a ; voila.' 

" ' There was still another preliminary to be settled. 

" 'What wine, sir P' said the waiter, putting the list into his hands. His eye glanced 
over it with contempt. The most costly Burgundy, champagne mousseux, the Johannis- 
berg, and the Hockheim solicited his palate in vain ; and he replied, ' Have you got a 
bottle of porter ? ' 

" '^Vhat, sir?' 

" ' Have — you — got — a — bottle — o — porter, I say ? Comprenez ?' 

" Alas ! the waiter did not comprehend one word that he said ; but happily, it being a 
time of profound repose in the vessel, a second waiter was at hand, to whom the question 
was repeated. 

" ' No, sir, no.' 

" ' Then why have you put it in the list Y' 

" ' We have ale, sii-.' 

" ' I asked for porter.' 

" ' We have none, sir.' 

" ' Why do you deceive people by putting it in the carte ? Bring a bottle of ale, 
then. Comprenez ? ' 

" After this the Englishman, Kfting up the cover of each dish for a moment, took from 
it some of its smoking contents, and then closed it again as carefidly as a miser would 
relock his hoard. Just then the waiter re-appeared with the bottle ; and was in the act 
of inserting the corkscrew, when the Englishman, starting up, exclaimed with energetic 
indignation, 'If you draw it, I will not pay you one farthing. Comprenez:" If his 
words were unintelligible, the waiter could understand the deepening claret of his cheek, 
and the keen sparkle of his eye, and was arrested in a moment ; when the other, 
snatching the bottle, and placing it still corked by his side, muttered something about 
' spoiling the thing altogether.' But now his energy and decision had triumphed ; and 
I left him in his spacious cabin, with plenty of time before him, with his hot dishes 
within reach, and his ale ready to foam at his command, beginning to rejjlenish the 
interior void with a profound contentment, which the fine scenery through which we 
were rapidly glidiag could not for a moment disturb." 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

CONDITION OF THE PEOPLE ARTS AND MANUFACTURES FINE ARTS — IN SUTTUTIONS 

RELIGION. 

It is desirable, before we proceed to the north of Italy, that we should now dwell briefly 
on the condition of the people of Switzerland ; and more particularly on those circum- 
stances which, as yet, we have only too slightly touched, or altogether passed over. 
This will, therefore, be our present purpose. 

Switzerland is a country of various races, and this circumstance, as well as the 
diSerence of situation and climate, and of institutions, language, and religion, contribute 
to give distinct moral features to the various parts of the population. Generally speaking, 
the western Swiss bear a certain affinity to their French neighbours of Burgundy and 
Franche Comte, being like them, chiefly descended from the Burgundians, whose 
kingdom extended on both sides of the Jura; while the eastern and northern Swis 
resemble their German neighbours of Suabia and Tyrol. The inhabitants of the 
central Alpine cantons have peculiar features, physical as well as moral, and they have 
remained more immised from foreign irruptions and immigrations than the rest. 

According to Olivier, a Swiss contemporary writer, the inhabitant of the Alps is 
strongly attached to his native locality, firm and tenacious even to obstinacy, proud and 
single-minded ; his feelings are deep and energetic ; he is prone to enthusiasm, and to a 
kind of poetical abstraction. The inhabitant of the regions of the Jura is more civiUsed, 
more developed, more industrious, more progressive. In politics, liberty in the Jm-a is 
of the modern kind, the offspring of reasoning and of speculation ; in the Alps it is a 
natm^al and individual sentiment. 

The Swiss are generally fond of their country, and feel proud of being Swiss. Amongst 
all, both in the mountains and the plains, may be observed a frank, bold bearing and gait, 
and a freedom of sentiment which proclaim them as citizens of a free coimtry. There is 
also a love of domestic comfort, propriety, and of the decencies of life among all classes, 
and in a greater degree than is found among the corresponding orders in France or Italy. 
The differences in the appearance of the country and the houses, the superior cleanliness, 
tidiness, and care, forcibly strike the traveller who crosses the Jura or the Alps into 
Switzerland. The feeling of order, the habit of reasoning and discrimiuating, the steady, 
slow perseverance, the disposition to grave and serious thoughts, the shrewdness and 
humour, distinct from cimning and wit^-^all which are qualities generally characteristic 
of the Teutonic nations — have been regarded as belonging in great measure also to the 
Swiss, who are for the most part descended from Teutonic races. 

In the western part of Savoy the people are chiefly employed in agriculture, but in 
the great valleys, the principal of which are Faucigny, Tarentaise, and Maui'ienne, the 
rearing of cattle is the chief resource of the inhabitants. 

Besides the nobility, which is numerous but not rich, there are three classes of people 
in Savoy. The first class consists of bourgeois^ or citizens, who are freemen of the 



rt96 SWITZERIAND. 

different towns, and who are generally proprietors, having an income sufficient for their 
subsistence. The freedom may be purchased, on certain conditions ; the purchase money 
goes to the support of the hospitals, and other public uses, and part of it serves to defray 
the expenses of a city feast on the reception of the new member. 

The second class consists of farmers, whether tenants or proprietors, cultivating their 
own land : they live frugally, but are generally comfortable. The third class is composed 
of artisans and agricultural labourers ; the former are mostly foreigners, or the sons of 
foreigners, and they are well employed and paid ; but the agricultural labourers are 
generally poor, and live wretchedly. It is from this class that travellers derive their 
notions of the misery of Savojr ; but it is not so great as is commonly supposed. With 
the wages he receives, the labourer can purchase sufficient wholesome food for himself 
and his familj^, according to the frugal manner in which they live. But then he has to 
deduct about seventy days in the year, consisting of Sundays and other holidays, as he is 
paid by the daj^ ; and during winter he either has no employment, or works at reduced 
wages. These difficulties induce many to emigrate. The inhabitants of the mountains 
are in better circumstances than those of the towns and valleys, owing to the rich pastures 
which the Alps spontaneously afford. 

Emigration during winter is general among the poorer peasantry of the higher valleys. 
The men leave their homes in the autumn, and proceed to France or Italy in quest of 
work, while their wives take care of the house, and spin and weave during the long 
winter evenings, for they make all their clothing at home. At the beginning of spring, 
the men return to work in the fields, or drive the cattle up the Alps. The younger 
emigrants wander further, and remain sometimes absent for 3^ears. They proceed to 
Lyons and Paris, where they find employment as chimney-sweepers, shoe-blacks, hawkers, 
and errand-boys, and are to be seen at the corners of the streets of the French metropolis, 
where thej'' are said to bear a good character for honesty and sobriety. 

There is a difference remarked between the emigrants of the different valleys. Those 
from the Maurienne, which is the poorest, are the most numerous, and also the humblest 
in their vocations. They arc chiefly chimney-sweepers, or shoe-blacks. Those from 
the Tarentaise, though they begin with the same callings, often raise themselves in 
some branch of trade ; and many have established houses in various parts of France. 
The emigrants of Faucignjr are mostl)^ carpenters and stone-masons. Thc}^ possess much 
mechanical ingenuity, and are the best informed among the mountaineers of Savoj^ 
The best chamois -hunters are also to be met with in Faucigny ; and they foUow that 
dangerous sport with an ardour only extinguished by death. 

The people of Faucigny export cattle, cheese, butter, flax, and honey — which last is 
very mtich esteemed. Those of Maurienne and Tarantasia export likewise cattle and 
mules to Piedmont and to France ; they supply the markets of Turin Avith butcher's 
meat, hides, butter, and cheese. ]\Iost of the cheese said to be from Mont Cenis, and some- 
what lesembling Stilton, is made in the Maurienne. The cheese of Tarantasia resembles 
the well-known Swiss cheese called Gruyere. The people live chiefly on the produce of 
their dairies : they eat rye-bread, or cakes made of oatmeal and rye, which are baked 
twice in the year, chesnuts, and now and then a piece of salt meat. The attachment of 
the Savoyards to their native mountains is a feeling which continues during life. In 
almost every little town or village there are gifts left by natives — as may be seen in the 
churches — natives who, after many years' residence in distant coimtries, have returned 
home in their advanced age. 

The Savoyards take particular care of their churches ; which even in the forest and 
most mountainous parishes arc neat, and often handsome, though their own habitations' 
are rudely constructed, and often dilapidated. The parish church, often at a great 
distance from the various hamlets scattered on the mountain sides, is the only place of 



THE SAAOYARDS. 497 

meeting in ttese districts. There, once a week, the various families see each others' 
faces. After a week's separation from all the rest of mankind, amidst wild solitudes, 
where nothing is heard but the noise of the torrent, and the roar of the storm, the 
meeting at church miist excite peculiar emotions. 

The arrangements for marriage are not a little singialar. When a young man is first 
admitted to spend the evening at the house of a maiden to whom he wishes to pay his 
addresses, he watches the order of the fireplace, where several billets are blazing. If 
the fair one lifts up a billet, and places it upright against the side of the fireplace, it is a 
sign that she does not approve of her suitor. If she leaves the blazing wood imdisturbed, 
the young man may be sure of her consent. The preliminaries of the contract are soon 
arranged. The bridegroom makes a present to his betrothed as a pledge of his sincerity, 
and the following Saturday the contract is signed. At the marriage festival, twenty- 
four hours are passed in rejoicings, for this is the most important event in the simple 
history of these moimtaineers. 

The pastoral populations of the Waldstatten have been free from time immemorial ; 
they enjoyedKberty, indeed, while the rest of Switzerland was cultivated by serfs. The 
plateau or table-land of the country, which lies between the two mountain regions, is 
the scene of agricultural labours ; it also contains the largest and wealthiest towns ; it 
enjoj'S a greater degree of ease and comfort ; and the inhabitants are more fond of 
material enjoyment ; they are less shrewd and ingenious, more satisfied, and less 
anxious about accumulating wealth than the mountaineers, either of the Jura or the 
Alps. The inhabitants of the mountain cantons are fond of money, which is scarce in 
their country, and travellers have complained of their grasping disposition, especially the 
innkeepers, muleteers, and guides. Gross cases of imposition, accompanied by rudeness, 
now and then occur, for which there is Kttle chance of redress, as the local magistrates 
are connected with the innkeepers, or are infekeepers themselves, and the local courts in 
the small democracies of the Alps are not very scrupulous or just. 

A recent traveller says : " It is a pity that the inducement to travel through a country 
so interesting as the Grisons — interesting from the grandeur of its scenery — interesting 
from the peculiarities of its natviral and moral aspect — should be in any degree counter- 
balanced by the unpleasant knowledge, that every man's object is to cheat you ; and 
that, moreover, any attempt to resist even the grossest robbery will be followed by abuse 
and insult, sometimes even by violence ; and yet such is the state of things throughout 
the coimtry of the Grisons. I do not allude to what I would call sinij^k inijMdition. 
Overcharges a stranger must submit to ; and the traveller will do wisely in making up 
his mind to bear these quietly. Eut the imposition practised upon travellers throughout 
the Grison country is of a different kind, and amounts to robbery. This is less excusable, 
too, among the Grisons than in any other part of Switzerland, and must be attributed 
amono-st them to an innate want of honesty. In the more travelled parts of Switzerland, 
intercourse with strangers may have corrupted the natural simpKcity of the natives. 
When the continent was first opened to the Enghsh, they scattered their money with 
the most lavish hand, measuring their boimty, not by the wants of the natives and the 
scale of things abroad, but by the high war-prices of England; so that, upon the 
principle that a thing is worth what it will bring, the Swiss adapted their demands to 
this rule ; and, even at this day, although the majority of travelling English act with 
greater prudence, there are stiU many exceptions ; and when you offer a Swiss something 
reasonable and just for his services, nothing is more common than to be told, that iiii 
Monsieur Anglais gave so and so the other day for a similar service, naming a sum two 
or three times greater than you have offered. But the Grisons have no such examples 
of folly to bring in support of their extortions ; and these extortions are, besides, far 
greater, as well as of a different character. I scarcely ever changed a piece of money in 

2 K 



498 SWITZERIAND. 

the Grrisons, that an attempt was not made to give less than its value ; and at the same 
time, presuming upon my ignorance of Swiss coinage, money either altogether false, of 
depreciated value, or useless in the country of the Grisons, made a part of the 
change. Moderate overcharges I do not complain of, because I lay my account with 
them. But these, when very gross, become mere robbery ; and of this description 
was the demand made at Ilanz, where I now am. I had bread, milk, and two eggs 
for supper — this was all the house afforded; and for breakfast I had bread, butter, 
sugar, and hot water to make tea, which I carried with me. The whole of 
these could not have been worth one franc ; and in the morning, when I demanded 
my bin, I was told it amounted to nine francs. I requested to Imow the par- 
ticulars. Supper three francs, breakfast three francs, bed three francs. I told the 
landlord the charge was quite absurd. He shrugged his shoulders. I told him it was 
at least three times what would be charged for the same accommodation in England. 
' C'est po&sihk ?' said he, with the greatest coolness ; ' mais mm sommes a present en 
Suisse.' I told him I would not pay it. 'How can j^ou help it?' said he with the 
utmost effii-ontery ; and, in short, I purchased leave to go upon my journey, by submitting 
to be robbed. I could mention several other instances of robbery to match this. And 
with respect to begging in the Grisons, how do the peasants manage to reconcile their 
cupidity with their independence ? They manage in this way : — they employ their 
children to beg in the neighbourhood of Coire ; and, on the road to the baths of 
Pfeffers, Avhere the inhabitants are accustomed to see strangers, you cannot pass a hamlet 
without being assailed by children, while the parents, richer perhaps than you are, 
stand at the door with an air of Grison independence. But tliis is not all ; when I have 
refused to give anything (and, I need scarcely say, I always did refuse), I liave been 
frequently hooted at, and pelted with stones ; and, upon one occasion, when I turned back, 
irO bestow a little wholesome chastisement upon some boys past the age of children, two or 
three men, and as many women, all of whom had seen the misconduct of the boys, rushed 
from the cottage-door, and showed by their menaces that I should act wisely in sub- 
mitting to be pelted with stones in so free a country as the Grisons. So much for Grison 
honesty, and Grison civilisation." 

Ggenerally speaking, however, the Swiss are warm-hearted and hospitable ; tliey are 
kind to strangers, and their coimtry can boast of having afforded, at all times, an asylum to 
the imfortunate and the persecuted. The Italian Protestants in the sixteenth century, the 
Vaudois, the French Protestants who were driven out of their country by the intolerance 
of Louis XIV. in the seventeenth, all found an hospitable reception in Switzerland. The 
Eoman CathoKc emigrants, priests, and laymen, who escaped from France at the time of 
the great revolution, found sympathy and assistance from the Swiss, both Roman Catholic 
and Protestant. In later times, political emigrants of various countries, both in the time 
of Napoleon and since that period, have taken refuge in Switzerland, not without the 
risk, on the part of that country, of being involved in hostilities with powerful neigli- 
bouriag states on account of the imprudent and guilty conduct of several of tho 
refugees. 

The Swiss have been always inclined to the military profession, and their political 
institutions, which require every yoiing -man to be drilled and to serve in the militia for 
a certain period, strengthen this propensity. Most cantons of Switzerland have for 
centuries furnished, and some stiU continue to furnish, regiments for the service of foreign 
powers. This practice has been much animadverted upon, especially of late j^ears, by 
men who have not made a sufficient discrimination between encom-aging foreign enlist- 
ment and merely tolerating it as an unavoidable evU. Much declamation has been mixed 
up with the subject, about Swiss republicans being mercenaries in the service of foreign 
despots, without considering that men who enlist for money trouble themselves little 



SWISS SOLDIEKS. 499 

about forms of government, tlicir motive being either to get a better living than they 
have at homo, or a love of adventure and a wish to see foreign lands. 

Still, as Grrattan remarks : " It is impossible to trace without a feeling of repug- 
nance the relations, whether foreign or domestic, in which Switzerland was engaged 
during a period which, in spite of martial achievements, must be deemed the most 
deplorable and disgraceful of her history. It became the only object of state policy in 
Switzerland to drive a lucrative traffic with the blood of its inhabitants, and though the 
article must be acknowledged to have fetched a price, it is not the less a scandalous blot 
in the history of the co^mtry, that so vile a trade should so long have remained the only 
one pursued with any energy by the people and its leaders. It is true that the Helvetic 
seats of government were surround.ed with more splendour than ever. Ambassadors 
crowded thither from the emperor and the pope, and from many other monarchs, princes, 
nobles, and free towns, soliciting with emulous zeal their friendship and alliance, and 
bidding against each other for the iron arm of Switzerland, by offers of absolution, special 
privileges, rich presents, large pensions, and high pay." BuUinger, at a subsequent 
period, recoi'ds " that a lewd and wanton life was commonly practised, with gluttony, 
gaming, dancing, and all manner of wantonness, day and night, especially where dicta 
were held, as at Zurich, Lucerne, and Baden : the latter, it may be observed, was a most 
licentious place. The common people in town and country were drawn away from honest 
labour to idleness, lewdness, and warlike undertakings, and reckless and abandoned habits 
thus prevailed everywhere." 

It became long since a practice to have a Swiss servant as the porter of a baronial 
residence on the continent ; and the visitors of the churches there will not fail to have 
noticed the Swiss soldier, who acts as a kind of beadle, and who is frequentty in attend- 
ance on the vicar when he passes round to the various occupants of the chairs at a mass, 
with his collecting-box in his hand, and the petition, " Pour Ics paiivrcs." 

At present, most cantons have forbidden foreign recruiting, and the Sv/iss have of late 
had regular regiments only in the service of the pope and the kings of Naples. Formerly 
they had about 15,000 men in the service of the kings of France, about half that number 
in the service of Holland, besides several regiments in Spain, in Piedmont, and at !Naples. 
Those cantons from Avhich the respective regiments were drawn, received an annual 
subsidy from the State for whose service they were recruited. The regiments were 
raised by the colonels, who were proprietors of their respective corps. The agreement 
of each regiment was for a certain number of years, after which the officers retired 
on full pay for the rest of their lives. The fidelity of the Swiss soldiers to their colours 
was proved in the two French revolutions of our own times. 

In turning now to the productions of the peojple, the salt-works at Bex are entitled 
to some rcmarlkS. Coxe thus describes his visit to them: — "Upon our arrival at the 
salt springs, I put on a workman's jacket, and went into the mountains about three 
thousand feet almost horizontally. The gallery is six feet high and four broad, and as 
much hollov.'ed as if cut with a chisel ; it is hewn in a black rock, veined in some places 
with white gj^psum. The salt is procured from springs v/hich are found within a solid 
rock perforated at a great expense ; the richest source yields twenty-eight pounds of salt 
per cent., and the poorest but half a pomid. Near these springs are several Avarm sources, 
which contain a mixture of salt, but are so strongly impregnated with sulphur as to 
flame when a lighted candle is put into the pipe through which they flow. After 
travelling in this subterraneous passage near three quarters of a mile, I observed a 
"■reat wheel of thirty-live feet diameter, which raises the brine from the depth of about 
seventy feet. From this place is a shaft three hundred feet high, which is cut thi-ough 
the mountain to the surface, for the purpose of introducing the fresh air. I noticed two 
reseiwoirs hollowed ip, the solid rock for holding the brine, one v/as one hundred ajjd 



500 SWITZERLAND. 

sixty feet square and nine in deptli. Since my fi.rst expedition in 1776, tlie worlaneh 
had pierced tlie rock twenty-five feet deeper, and cut a gallery a hundred feet in length ; 
they had also begun to form a third reservoir, to contain five thousand five himdred cubic 
feet, which was nearly half finished. The brine deposited in these reservoirs is conveyed 
by means of two thousand pipes, about a league, to Bexvieux, where the salt is extracted." 

About thirty years ago, when the brine springs were found to be faihng, M. Charpentier 
suggested that a search should be made for rock salt. A fresh enterprise was now 
commenced ; shafts and galleries were constructed ; and a rich vein was traced to a 
distance of about four thousand feet, and this led to a new process. After blasting the 
rock salt with gunpowder, it is crushed and thrown into large reservoirs. Each one is 
filled with water three times, the second and third solutions being weaker than the first ; 
and the salt water being raised to the roof of long sheds by pumps, comes triclding 
down in drops, and the watery portions are, in consequence, evaporated. Crystallisation 
follows, and the salt is afterwards boiled. 

Switzerland has been, at least in part, a manufacturing country for centuries. So 
early as the thirteenth century, woollen and linen cloths were producedin the cantons of 
Appenzell and St. Gall ; and the manufacture has been continued to the present day. 
In 1820, these cantons drew from England upwards of a million pounds in weight of 
cotton yarns. Since then, however, spinning-machinery has been multiplied and per- 
fected in Switzerland ; and it no longer provides France with the aforementioned 
article. Switzerland, a few years ago, consumed annually 50,000 piecesof raw calico, 
but from the establishment of weaving-machines, Switzerland will soon beable, if she 
is not now, to furnish herseK with that commodity. 

Switzerland imports from England cast-iron, steel, pewter, tin, line hardware, a small 
quantity of printed cottons, woollen stufis, tea, pottery, India and China silk-dj'eing 
ingredients, and colonial productions, when they are cheaper in England than in the 
continental parts of Europe. Switzerland, on the other hand, furnishes very few articles 
to England, and they, principally, consist in embroidered muslins, Turkey-red caKcoes, 
and a few printed goods upon the same red ground. 

A Swiss gentleman remarked, a few years ago : " Machinerj^ has never been established, 
to any considerable extent, in our canton (Appenzell), because the inhabitants are too 
fond of their individual liberty, and woidd submit with difficulty to the restrictions and 
regulations which they would be compelled to observe in an establishment conducted 
entirely bj^ machinery. Bat the establishment of machinery in England, and in the other 
cantons of Switzerland, has been favourable to our district, inasmuch as a greater demand 
has been created for weavers and embroiderers, whose labour at all times offers a greater 
profit to the working classes than spinning by hand ; for, in order that the same 
individual may become a manufacturer and a weaver, it is only necessary for him to 
command a credit of lOlbs. of spun cotton. The inventions for accelerating weaving 
have also been advantageous in dimmishing the price of goods, and in increasing the 
demands of the consumer; but it cannot be denied, at the same time, that these 
advantages may be followed by great calamities ; for when machines are enabled to 
supply the wants of the whole community, and when the cidtivation of cotton shall have 
arrived at its greatest perfection, a crisis may take place of which it is now impossible to 
foresee the consequences. We console ourselves, however, with the hope, that thej' will 
be less afflicting for us than for any other nation. The introduction of machines to 
manufacture bobbiaet has not produced any general influence in the coimtry." 

The working classes are divided into four different sections : manufacturers, weavers 
winders, and embroiderers. There tire manufacturers of every grade and description, 
from the individual who only manufactures the quantity which himself and his 
family can weave, up to those who have a hundred weavers or more than a hundred 



SALT-WOUKS. 501 

embroiderers ; for the manufacturer -who employs embroiderers does not meddle witlL 
weaving. These manufacturers, who either sell their goods imbleached to the traders at 
home, or bleached to foreigners, breakfast upon coffee and milk, butter, honej-, or green 
cheese. Their dinner is composed of soup and bouilli, or a dish of some flourj^ or mealy 
ingredient, potatoes, or porridge. Their beverage is cider or milk. Many of them sup 
upon coffee, as at breakfast, and they seldom di-ink wine, except when they go to the 
inn on Sunday evenings, or by accident on some other day in the week. There are some 
parishes where it is the custom to go to the public-house every evening ; but that custom 
soon exercises a baneful influence upon the morality of the younger part of the community, 
as well as upon the wealth of the whole population. The manufacturers are in general 
very economical, and theii- greatest expense is in having neat and convenient houses and 
handsome Simday clothes. They take a great interest in public affaii's, and pride 
themselves particularly upon their probity and honour. They furnish the greatest number 
of the magistrates, and amongst them are principally chosen all the parochial authorities ; 
and as the magistrates are not paid, but serve their comitry from a sentiment of duty 
and of patriotism, they fulfil this trust vfith great fidelity. Among the working classes, 
those who are economical, skilful, and industrious, acquire handsome fortunes, and their 
profits are, of course, in proportion to the sum which is ofiered for their manufactures. 

The merchants who employ weavers generally buy spun cotton, and, after preparing 
it, give it to the weavers, who make it into cloth, and return it to the owner upon being 
■ paid the price which has been agreed upon, that is, so much per yard, per piece, or per 
handkerchief. 

The weaver, as soon as he has the means, purchases a small estate, or at least a small 
house, and very frequently the manufacturer furnishes him with the means of doing 
so. The acquisition of landed property is greatly facilitated in this country by the 
sj'stem of mortgage which exists. It is very easy to borrow money upon mortgage, and 
by that means to purchase, for 200 or 300 florins, property amounting to ten times the 
value. This arrangement, however, has the disadvantage of rendering landed property 
extremely dear, and, consequently, should the manufacture not continually prosper, 
or if the produce of the soil is not valuable, the purchasers are not able to pay 
the interest of the money which they have borrowed, and failures become frequent. 
These misfortimes, however, are only felt by individuals ; the state loses nothing by it, 
for the property is then sold considerably cheaper, and the purchaser gains what the 
seller has lost. These arrangements have also another advantage ; hj spreading the 
popidation over the whole extent of the coiintry, the soil is necessarily better cultivated, 
and the health of the weaver is better ensured, inasmuch as when he is not constantly 
employed in manufactiiring he is able to employ himself in agriculture ; and lastly, as 
his interests compel him to remain habitually with his family, the morality of the entire 
population is better preserved. 

This class of worlmien-proprietors forms the great mass of voters in the popular 
assemblies ; and as it is this class who live in the most retired manner, never frequenting 
the inns but on the days which are appointed for popidar amusement, or by accident on 
a market-daj^ it is scarcelj" possible to predict beforehand in what way their electoral 
suffrages will be given. 

The weavers, forming another class, have no landed property ; thej'' are merely tenants, 
and, consequent^, often change from place to place. This class in general is not very 
industrious ; it is endowed with little talent, and is often irregular in conduct. It is, 
perhaps, too the least economical of all, and becomes sooner reduced to a state of poverty. 
It is also amongst this class that the greatest improbity is to be found. These people 
live very cheaply when obliged to do so, taking only a little coffee or milk three times a 
day, with potatoes, the cost of which altogether does not exceed the amount of three 



502 SWITZERLAND. 

kreutzers per diem ; but naturally they x^refer better living when tbey can obtain it. 
Grenerally they make an arrangement with the chief tenant, or farmer, to be permitted 
to cook at his fire and to warm themselves in the same apartment with the family ; and 
this arrangement saves them from buying wood. They purchase milk from the farmet 
for about three or three and a half kreutzers the quart, and they assist the farmer in his 
out-door labours. The old men, the women, and the children, when they are not at 
school, wind off the thread for the individuals of the family who are employed in weaving. 
Most of the young men of this class frequent the inns on Sundays, and amongst them 
the most dissolute manners are to be observed. 

All the weavers in Switzerland make use of coffee, milk, oatmeal, and potatoes, which 
compose their principal food. A few indulge themselves with meat and half a pot of 
cider on Sundays. They work from thirteen to fourteen hoiu'S a day, but they do not 
constantly weave. They cultivate their farms, take care of their cattle, and carry their 
work to the manufacturers, who are sometimes from one to three leagues distant from 
their residence. 

The merchants who deal in embroidered goods purchase plain muslins, and choose the 
patterns or sketch them themselves, after which they have them engraved by the best 
artists. The pattern is then printed or stamped upon the muslin, and then handed over 
to the embroiderers to be completed. Each workman only performs a certain part, so 
that a piece of embroidery, where there are three or four different figures or patterns, 
passes through the hands of as many workmen. It is generally women or young lads 
who perform this work. 

For many years past the law has not aUov/ed any person to be admitted to the 
sacrament who does not know how to read. The major part of the population also know 
how to write ; and, latterly, grammatical instruction in the native tongue has been 
added to the education previously given to children. They are also taught the rudiments 
of arithmetic. Singing is considered to be extremely useful as a branch of public 
education. Drawing teaches childi-en to admire the beauties of nature, and to form a 
correct idea of different objects. After children have, left the public schools at the age 
of twelve, they continue to receive every eight days, and afterv/ards once a month, until 
. the age of seventeen, lessons of repetition. At the age of seventeen they receive the 
instructions necessary to the sacrament, after which they are declared of age, assist at 
the popular assemblies and perform their part of military duties. 

At a meeting in 1835, the Society of Public Utility brought forward the subject of 
the influence of commerce and manufactures upon the education of the people. The 
necessity of schools of art and industry, and the means of associating the progress of 
instruction with the efforts to amass wealth and to widen the relations of trade and 
commerce, were the topics discussed. One of the speakers used the following language : 
" We may learn, alike from the past and the present, that, when fishing and hunting 
form the sole occupations of a people, little progress is made in intellectual culture ; there 
is no security against poverty, no impulse given to civilisation. 

" Agriciilture itself is a feeble ally of mental improvement, imless associated with 
other industry, or forced to seek a distant market for the produce of its labom-. Until 
it can extend its commimications beyond those of internal consumption, as it was enabled 
to do in the eighth and ninth centuries, it never brings with it a real civilisation ; while 
m remoter times the laborious Phoanicians, the inventors of glass, of coins, and writing, 
spread their knowledge and their arts by trading enterprise along the coasts of Africa, 
into Spain, to the shores of the Atlantic, and even to the Baltic Sea. 

" So the crusades, which extended our commercial relations into Asia, and brought the 
produce of Asia home to Europe, planted the seeds of European Liberty ; and when the 
inventions of the compass and of gunpowder led to the discovery and conquest of the 



MAKDFACTUEES. 503 

new world, commerce created riclies, gave to the invention of printing its immense 
influence, and iatroduced the Reformation and popular instruction as its natural followers. 

"And now new powers are heralded by steam machinery. Rapid, and easy, and 
economical commimications open a wider vista for future ages. They penetrate already 
beyond the limits of Europe. Our anxieties as to a population increasiag and improvided 
for are diminished as the vast fields of distant lands are expanded to our view. There 
will be exhibited — ^there will be cultivated, unexplored sources of opulence to us — unde- 
veloped germs of happiness for them. 

" We, too, are called to labour in this fertile field ; zealous and assiduous, then, be our 
labom's. Let us invite amongst us the intelligence, the improvements, the discoveries of 
mightier nations. Let us welcome their mechanical wonders ; let us import everything 
which will teach us what we do not know, or improve us in what we do. Om^s be no 
narrow jealousy to exclude the superiority of a neighbour. What is there to alarm us in 
the restrictive policy of egotism and isolation? Let us entice all perfection to om' 
hearths and our homes. We shall have nothing to apprehend from the rise or fall of 
greater interests, if we make their rise and their fall ministei^ to our instruction and 
well-beiag ; if we will but learn prudence, perseverance, uprightness, courage, and 
confidence, our prosperity, our policy, and our virtues will all be strengthened together." ■ 

The society had proposed the following question : — 

" Ought Switzerland to adopt, without any restrictions, the principle of commercial 
liberty ? Are there any cases in which the principle should be modified ?" 

IN^umerous replies were addressed to the committee. They were unanimous in favour 
of unrestricted liberty, and during the discussion almost every opinion had the same 
tendency. The president energetically declared it was his conviction that the interests 
of the country required that the Swiss should remain passive amidst the restrictions 
aroimd them, and look for their success to their activity, and to the intellectual power of 
their own industry. 

M". Muralt, of Zurich, explained how the prohibitory system of other countries was 
acting favourably on the manufactures of Switzerland, by raising them out of the petty 
homo consumption, and opening to them the markets of the whole world. He strongly 
lu-ged the removal of every impediment to external commerce, the abolition of all tolls 
and taxes iipon transit, which he called a sad legacy of the ignorance of past times. He 
was supported in his view by burgomaster Hess, of Zurich, who showed how much these 
difiiculties impeded the introduction of new manufacturing establishments. The deputy 
of the canton de Vaud expressed a desire and hope that the portion of Switzerland he 
represented would go beyond the rest in an example of liberalism, and the ex-avoyer of 
Berne responded with the wish that ere long no other interior liae of demarcation should 
be known than that which geographers traced on the map to distinguish one canton from 
another. 

One of the largest and most interesting branches of Swiss industrj^ is the watchmaking 
trade. It is carried on to an immense, and still increasing, extent in the momitainous 
districts of Neuchatel, in the French portion of the canton of Berne, and ia the town and 
neighbourhood of Geneva. It has been a source of wealth and comfort to many 
thousands of the inhabitants, who, in the rarely-visited villages of the Jura, have 
gathered around them a large portion of the enjoyments of life. Switzerland has long 
furnished the markets of France ; and, though the names of certain French watch- 
makers have obtained a European celebrity, yet it has been stated by M. Arago, that an 
examiaation into this trade had elicited the fact that not ten watches were made in Paris 
in the course of a year, the immense consumption of France being fiu-nished from 
Switzerland, and the Swiss works being only examined and rectified by the French 
manufacturers. The contraband trade into France was immense, and no custom-house 



504 SAVITZERLAND. 

regulations could stop tlie introduction of articles so costly and so little bulky. The 
manner of smuggling watclies was to sew from one hundred and twenty to one hundred 
and sixtjf in the smuggler's waistcoat, and a giht de montrcs so prepared was considered a 
fair charge for the adventurer. The insurances varied from five to ten per cent., and 
perhaps the helplessness and carelessness of a protecting and prohibitory system was 
never more strikingly exhibited than in this attempt to shut out the Swiss watches from 
the Swiss markets. In France not a shadow of benefit resulted, not an additional watch 
was manufactured in the country, neither producer nor consumer reaped the slightest 
advantage. The smuggling trade was as regular and just as extensive as the legitimate 
trade could become ; but meanwhile the whole frontier had become infested with bauds of 
revenue defrauders, bold and recldess sjpirits, whose habit and profession are the violation 
of the laws, and whose existence is both opprobrium to legislation, and a warning to the 
framers of foolish, pernicious, and impracticable statutes. 

The Jura mountains have been the cradle of much celebrity in the mechanical arts, 
particularly in those more exquisite productions of which a minute complication is the 
peculiar character. During the winter, which lasts from six to seven months, the 
inhabitants are, as it were, imprisoned in their dwellings, and occupied in those works 
which require the utmost development of skilful ingenuity. Nearly 120,000 watches are 
produced annually in the elevated regions of Neuchatel. In Switzerland, the most 
remarkable of the French makers, and among them one who has lately obtained the 
gold medal at Paris for his beautiful watch movements, had their birth and education ; 
and a sort of honourable distinction attaches to the watchmaking trade. The horologers 
consider themselves as belonging to a nobler profession than ordinary mechanics, and do 
not willingly allow their children to marry into what they consider the inferior classes. 

Scarcely a century has elapsed since a few merchants began to collect together small 
parcels of watches, in order to sell them in foreign markets. The success which attended 
these speculations induced and encouraged the population of these countries to devote 
themselves still more to the production of articles of ready sale ; so much so, that very 
nearly the whole population of this part has, with a very few exceptions, embraced the 
watch-making trade. Meanwhile, the population has increased threefold, independently 
of the great number of workmen who are established in almost all the towns of Europe, 
in the United States of America, and even in the East Indies and China. It is from this 
period also that dates the change that has taken place in the country of Neuchatel, where, 
notwithstanding the barrenness of the soil, and the severitj^ of the climate, beautiful and 
well-built \dllages are everywhere to be seen, connected by easy communications, 
together with a very considerable and industrious population, in the enjoyment, if not of 
great fortunes, at least of a happy and easy independence. 

Thus, in defiance of the difficulties which it' was necessary to overcome, in spite of the 
obstacles which were opposed to the introduction of the produce of their industry into 
other countries, and, notwithstanding the prohibitions which enfeebled its development, 
it has at length attained a prodigious extension. It may be further remarked, that, 
from the upper valleys of Neuchatel, where it first originated, it has spread from oast to 
west into the valleys of the Jura, and into the cantons of Berne and Vaud ; and, further, 
that all these populations form at present a single and united manufactory, whose centre 
and principal focus is in the mountains of JSTeuchatel. 

This species of industry has had to contend against the various vicissitudes which have 
from time to time assailed other branches of human occupation. One of these, affecting 
a particular class of workmen, happened some fifty years ago, and was owing to the 
invention of machinery, by which the movements, or separate pieces of watch machinerj-, 
were produced. The workmen, who were accustomed to make these articles, could not 
sustain the competition which was entailed upon them by the mamifacture of the same 



WATCH-MAKING. 505 

articles by machinery ; and they experienced in consequence thereof a great deal of 
miserj^ and distress. SeA-eral of them were reduced to pauperism, while others were 
enabled to support themselves by embracing other branches of the same profession. This 
crisis, however, was not followed by consequences so long and fatal as might, in the first 
instance, have been apprehended ; and it may now be safely asserted, that since the 
invention of these machines the manufacture of these objects has received a considerable 
increase, for an infinitely greater number of watches are actually completed and perfected 
than at the time when all their component parts were constructed and finished by manual 
labour ; and in many respects, also, there is now more exactness and perfection in their 
execution. 

The great advantage which the Swiss possess in competition with the watchmakers in 
England, is the low price at which they can produce the flat cylinder watches, which are 
at the present time much in request. The watchmakers of Grreat Britain buj^ largely, 
both in Geneva and ]!>[euchatel, and scarcely a single watch pays the duty of twenty-five 
per cent., because the risk of clandestine introduction is small. The average annual 
export to England is from 8,000 to 10,000 watches, and the average price about £10 
sterling. The jewellery sent from Geneva to England represents a value of about 
£60,000 per annum. The watches of English manufacture do not come into competition 
with those of Swiss production, which are used for different purposes, and by a different 
class of persons. Notwithstanding all the risks and charges, the sale of Swiss watches is 
large, and it has not really injured the English "watchmaking trade. The English 
watches are far more solid in construction, fitter for service, and especially in countries 
where no good watchmakers are to be found, as the Swiss watches require delicate treat- 
ment. English watches, therefore, are sold to the purchaser who can pay a high price ; 
the Swiss watches supply the classes to whom a costly watch is inaccessible. 

Since the period when the habit of travelling has become so extended, a great change 
has taken place in the Swiss watchmaking trade ; English travellers formerly bought 
largely at Geneva, and few watches were sent directly to England. At the present time, 
the sales to the English at Geneva have much diminished, and the direct exports to 
England much increased. In many shops in England there is a considerable assortment 
of Swiss watches ; and since these were more common in England, English production has 
increased. The presence of the Swiss watches has alike extended the demand and 
improved the character of the English manufacture. The works of watches are made 
principally at Fontainemelon and Beaucourt, in France. The unfinished work is called 
an ebauche, and is polished and perfected by the Geneyese artisan. 

The manufacture of repeating-watches led, very naturally, to another species of 
industry. Attention to the various tones of the metal — and, it may be added, the 
education of the people in the science of harmony — soon connected music with machinery ; 
and musical rings, seals, watches, and boxes were produced in considerable numbers, the 
first experiments having been costly, but practice so reduced the price as to create a large 
market, and still leave a considerable profit. Out of the success of this new branch of 
manufactvire others grew — musical automata of various character — some combining great 
perfection of motion with external beauty and perfect harmony, concentrated in an 
exceedingly small space. 

The jewellery trade is very considerable at Geneva, and employs a great number of 
workmen, but, like all manufactures depending on the caprices of fashion, it is subject to 
great fluctuations. The history of this trade is instructive, as showing how easily an 
unprotected manufacture accommodates itself to the vicissitudes of supply and demand. 
At a former period, snuff boxes for the Italian markets, watch chains, and ornaments for 
Turkey, formed the staple articles. As pearls and enamel grew out of fashion, — when 
Italy was invaded, and Turkey, by her internal dissensions, and her debasement of the 



506 SWITZERLAND. 

currency, liad almost ceased to carry on a foreign trade, — it was expected tlie manu- 
factures of Q-eneva would very sensibly suffer ; but a succession of new articles, trifling 
if looked at apart, yet most important in the aggregate, were introduced one after 
another. The jewellery of Geneva invaded markets where that of Paris had had 
exclusive possession ; and Paris itself became a great depot and a large market for the 
consumption of Genevese jeweller jr. There have been many controversies in Geneva as 
to allowing the precious metals to be alloyed beneath the legal standard ; but there has 
been always hitherto a vehement resistance to any depreciation. 

Of the workmen employed in Geneva a large proportion are foreigners. One of the 
causes of the settlement of strangers is the large emigration of intelligent workmen, 
particularly those connected with v^atchmaking, who fix themselves in foreign countries, 
and who are speedily replaced by artisans of an inferior order. As the general character 
of society is intelligent and instructed, the labouring population partakes of the tone of 
civilisation which distinguishes the place. 

Lace-makrag was also introduced at the same period as the art of watch-making. The 
former was imported by the jefugees from France, who had been compelled to seek an 
asylum in a Protestant country in consequence of the revocation of the edict of ISTantes. 
Lace-making principally occupies the female sex, and a woman may fairly earn from 
one to three francs a-dajr, according to her skill and assiduity in her work. For a period 
of rather more than a century, lace-making was a very lucrative occupation to the popu- 
lation of these mountains ; but since the invention of machines for the manufactory of 
lace, this branch of industry has entirely decayed. Most of the persons whoVere occupied 
in lace-making have successively embraced some branch of watch-making. Others con- 
tinue to make blond lace, though their earnings are very trifling ; but from the facility 
of transfer to other occupations, the destruction of this branch of industry has not 
occasioned any very considerable inconvenience. 

Wooden toys and ornaments may close the notice of these productions of the Swiss. 
Widely scattered have been their chalets and farms, their lions, bears, and chamois ; 
and no less so, their hunters, shepherds, and peasant girls, all nicely carved in wood. 
The cottage, the shop, and the hotel alike exhibit them for sale ; and numbers are 
carried away by tourists, as the memorials of pleasant weeks and months, spent among 
this interesting peoi^le. Often, too, though they may not see — 

" The cottager that weaves at her -window, 
Pillow and bobbins all her little store ;" 

a sight now extremely rare in England itself, yet the carver in wood may be observed in 
such circumstances, ptying his humble, yet ingenious, handicraft. Higher branches of 
art may also be noticed, in articles both useful and ornamental, particularly in shops at 
Berne, as tables and other pieces of furniture, which are carved and painted very 
tastefully. 

As to the fine arts, Switzerland has had several good pamters, especially landscape 
painters and engravers. The canton of Ticino has produced several distinguished 
architects and scidptors. The Swiss school of painting — that is to say, the school of 
Geneva — is fully entitled to the distinction of an original one. It comprises, however, 
only two divisions — landscape painting and portrait paiating — in which its artists have 
risen to celebrity, and in which it is destined still to make progress. Diday is the 
founder of the landscape school, and he has confined his practice almost exclusively to 
the Alpine grandeur of his native comitry. In delineating these, he has certainly 
attained great skill, and has produced works which will live ; but in all the qualities of a 
great painter, he is surpassed by his pupil, Calame. He is full of the poetry of nature, 
and he represents the Alps with a vividness of effect which no one before him had ever 



GOTTFRIED MIND. 507 

attained. Calame is also a first-rate etcher and lithograplier ; and Ms series of Alpine 
views, in aqua fortis, discover extraordinary power and originality. There is a celebrated 
portrait painter of Geneva named Horniing, whose works have been much approved of 
by amateurs, both in London and Paris. He is followed by some young artists, and the 
Swiss school of art, though small, is in a healthy condition. 

That there is no little talent and taste for drawing at Geneva, is evident from the 
following fact. The celebrated De Oandolle made use, in a course of lectures as professor 
of botany, of a very valuable collection of American plants, entrusted to him by a Spanish 
botanist, who having occasion for his collection sooner than he expected, sent for it again. 
De CandoUe stated the case to his audience, with the expression of his regret, when some 
ladies who were present offered to copy, with the aid of their friends, the whole collection 
in the course of a week. The drawings, filling thirteen folio volumes, and amounting in 
number to eight hundred and sixty, were acciu'ately executed by one hundred and four- 
teen female artists, in the time specified. One of the ladies made forty of the drawings. 
In most cases, Simond, to whom we owe the fact, says, " the princix^al parts only of each 
plant are coloured, the rest only traced with accuracy; the execution, in general, very 
good, and, in some instances, quite masterly. There is not, perliaps, another to-\vn of 
twenty-three thousand souls where such a number of female artists, the greater part of 
coui'se amatem's, could be found. Notwithstanding the wide dispersion of the drawings, 
there were not any lost ; and one of them having been accidentally dropped in the street, 
and picked up by a girl ten years old, was returned to M. de Oandolle, copied by the 
child,<»and is no disparagement to the collection. On another occasion, several drawings 
were carried to a wrong house, but there too they found artists able and willing to do 
their part. This taste for the arts is general, is imiversal." 

One artist of Switzerland is too remarkable to be now passed over. Gottfried Mind, a 
native of Berne, acquired a singular celebrity. He painted bears with remarkable skill, 
but his drawings of the feline race obtained for him the honourable, but rather awkward 
title of the "Raphael of Cats." No painter before him had ever succeeded in repre- 
senting, with so much of nature and spirit, the mingled humiKty and fierceness, the 
suavity and cunning, which this animal presents, or the grace of its various postures 
in action and repose. Kittens he particularly delighted to represent. He varied, with 
marvellous diversity, their fine attitudes while at play roimd their mother, and 
portrayed their gambols with admirable effect. Each of his cats, too, had an indi- 
vidual character and expression, and was, in fact, a portrait which seemed animated ; 
the very fur appeared so soft and silky as to tempt a caressing stroke from the 
spectator. 

In the course of time, the merit of Mind's performances was so well understood that 
travellers made it a point to visit him, and to obtain, if possible, his drawings, which 
even sovereigns sought after, and amateiirs treasured carefully in their portfolios. His 
attachment was imbotmded to the living animals he delighted to represent. Mind and 
his cats were inseparable. Minette, his favourite cat, was always near him when he was 
at work ; and he seemed to carry on a sort of conversation with her by gestures and by 
words. Sometimes the cat occupied his lap, while two or three kittens were perched on 
each shoulder, or reposed in the hollow formed at the back of his neck, while sitting in 
a stooj)iiig posture at his table. Mind would remain for hours together in this posture 
without stirring, for fear of disturbing the beloved companions of his solitude, whose 
complacent purring seemed to him an ample compensation for any inconvenience. His 
secondary attachment was for bears ; and he was a frequent visitor to the place where 
some of these animals were kept by the municipal authorities. The artist and the bears 
soon became well acquainted. They ran to meet him whenever they saw him approach, 
and received with very sensible demonstrations of attachment and gratitude, the bread 



508 SWITZERLAND. 

and fruit witli which he always came proYided. Mind died at Berne, in November, 
1814. 

The principal associations for learning or scientific purposes are, the Helvetic Society, 
established in 1763 ; the Swiss Society of Public Utility, established in 1820 ; the 
Helvetic Society of Natural Historj^, established in 1815 ; the Annual Helvetic Grand 
Concert ; the Society of Zoffingen, the Military Society, the Society of Physicians and 
Surgeons, and some others. Savings' banks and insurance societies are now pretty 
numerous in Switzerland. Hospitals for the infirm poor exist in every town, and some 
of them are richly endowed. The indigent receive assistance from the funds of the 
commune to which they belong. It is therefore of great importance for every man to be 
inscribed as a freeman of a commune. There are also numerous local charities ,and 
subscriptions for the poor. But there is a class of poor who seem to be considered as 
outcasts; they are called " Heimathlosen," or people without a domicile, and who are 
rejected by all the cantons : they are people descended from individuals who lost their 
civil rights in their respective cantons, either in consequence of change of religion, or 
of misdemeanours for which they were sentenced to banishment, or of illegal marriages ; 
or, lastljr, from foreigners settled in Switzerland who did not purchase their citizenship. 
The stigma thus cast upon their fathers descends upon the children to the last generation, 
and they have no right to assistance. These " Heimathlosen " have become a real plague 
to Switzerland ; they are vagrants, mendicants, hucksters, pilferers, and often robbers, 
like the gipsies of other countries. The subject has been discussed in the Federal Diet 
of late years, and several cantons have off'ered to come to an arrangement for distri|juting 
these individuals among the cantons, and restoring them to society. 

Elementary instruction has been greatly improved of late years, in many of the Swiss 
cantons. Those most distinguished in this respect are Zurich, Bale, Sohaifhausen, 
Netichatel, Geneva, and Vaud, in which the number of pupils of the elementary or com- 
mercial schools form about one-sixth of the entire population. The cantons which are 
jnost behind in these respects, are TJri, Schwitz, Unterwalden, Appenzell (interior), the 
Grisons, Ticino, and the Valais. Many parishes have no schools. Some of the cantons 
have schools for the education of schoolmasters. But, in most places, especially in the 
country communes, the people of this class are miserably paid. 

The secondary instruction is given in the gymnasia, which exist in most of the 
principal towns of cantons, besides secondary, or grammar-schools, in most of the other 
towns. In some, the old system is followed — Latin, rhetoric, and little more being 
taught ; in others, the secondary schools are divided into literary schools, for those who 
are intended for the higher walks of life, and " Beal-schukn," or schools of arts for the 
others. 

With regard to scientific instructions, there are the universities of Bale and Zurich, 
and the academies of Geneva, Berne, and Lausanne, in which degrees of divinity, law, 
and arts are granted. There are public libraries at Zurich, Berne, Bale, Soleure, 
Lxicerne, St. Gall, Aarau, Lausanne, and Geneva. Subscription libraries exist in all the 
Protestant cantons, as well as in that of Lucerne. Newspapers and reviews, weekly, 
monthly, and quarterly, are also published in Switzerland. 

One practice is too remarkable to be omitted. It is the habit of women of all ages in 
Geneva, to bestow on one another endearing epithets ; thus, " mon coour," " mon 
choux," "ma mignone," "mon ange," and similar tender expressions may frequently 
be heard in familar intercourse with the people of that city. And this arises from boys 
and girls even from their birth, being associated with other children of the same age and 
sex ; treaties are even concluded between parents, before the birth of a child. Boys 
under the designation of the same voUe are thus connected, and remain united as sncli at 
college, and until they are dispersed over the world ; and even then, tliey always retain 



MALE AND FEM^iLE SOCIETIES. 509 

a strong predilection in favour of their early companions. Grirls, on the other hand, are 
rogardod as of the sams societe clii cUmanehe, and meet at some of the parents' houses 
every Simday, but neither fathers nor mothers, nor even brothers or sisters, except of the 
same society, are present. A sort of light supper, as of pastry and fruit, is given them, 
of -ivhich they partake at discretion, and do and say just what they please. Simond, 
the first we have met with to state the fact, says : " A sort of natural subordination 
establishes itself among them; the cleverest and most good-natured, the strongest and 
the wisest, soon acquire an influence over the others, which increases gradually with 
ago. They feel no jealousy of a superiority insensibly established and acknowledged by 
themselves ; it reflects credit on the whole volee, or societe, the merits of one number are 
the boast of all, and thiis twelve individuals are led to take the best among them for 
their model. There have been examples of young female orphans extremely well 
educated by their societe, others have there found means to counteract the bad education 
they received at home ; but there is not one instance of a whole association being 
contaminated by the vicious propensities of an individual." 

In Roman Catholic Switzerland there is a priest for about every himdred and fifty 
persons ; while in the portions of the country accounted Protestant, there is but one 
minister to seven hundred of the people. The diffarence is ascribed to the parishes 
being smaller in the former case than in the latter, and to several priests being attached 
to one establishment. Of priests and monks there are said to be indeed more than 
five thousand. There are sixty convents, and about two thousand nuns. Of one 
part of the Eomish system, Mr. JSToel gives the following illustration : — " On our 
road from Thusis to Coire we passed, in the vUlagc of Katzis, a building which our 
coachman called a Heiligen Haus ; and as the chapel door was open, we entered. Behind 
a grating which separated the west gallery from the body of the building some nuns 
were intoning their lugubrious latin. Their faces, partially visible through the skreen, 
were directed towards the east end of the building, where several figures were placed to 
sublime their devotions. First, on each side of the altar stood two gilded images, most 
perfectly expressing stolidity and utter vacancy of mind : then, in a niche on the south 
wall, stood the figure of the Romish Queen of Heaven, represented as so athletic, that 
instead of holding her baby to her bosom, she extends her arm horizontally Avith the 
palm of the hand, also horizontal, and then, on a dirty pocket-handkerchief, spread over 
her hand like a table-cloth, holds up both her baby and all the dirty finery with which 
he is loaded. Apparently the Romish Queen does not always indulge in such expense, 
for near the centre of the chapel is another figure, in which she is represented by such a 
doll as might frighten a grenadier, holding in her left arm her baby, who is perfectly 
naked, except that a huge red ribbon is fastened round its neck, about twice as long and 
twice as broad as his whole body. But the most glorious object before which these nuns 
chanted their Latin is the image of a uiilitary saint, who holds in his hand a grim visage, 
such as pictui-es represent the head of Goliath in the hand of J^oung David. But this 
Grison knight has made a great mistake ; for instead of severing the head of his enemy 
he has somehow decapitated" himself, and yet, though he stands thus headless, his trunk 
is surmounted by a triple crimson plume, which would have moved the envy of Richard 
Cceur de Lion, or any other feathered crusader, by its brilliant loftiness. What seemed, 
however, to be a plume of crimson ostrich feathers, proves, on inspection, to be a fountain 
of blood, so rich and strong that the jets of Yersailles or St. Peter's at Rome could 
scarcely be finer. The strength of the blood-jet can only be accounted for by the zeal of 
the saint ; who, at the moment of cutting off his own head, was boiling like the Geysers 
of Iceland, so that the blood sprang up with proportionable force ; and thus, by the 
genius of the artist, it boils, and wiU boil as long as Grison nuns are to be edified by 
catholic methods in that convent. What the priests could mean by portraying that 



510 SWITZERLAND. 

goose of a saint I know not, unless they intended to intimate to their disciples, that 
whoever becomes a Romish devotee must begin. by parting with his imderstanding." _ 

Another instance of superstition may be noticed in connexion with the Abbey of 
Einsiedeln, of which Murray has given a full account, as well as of the ceremonies of a 
recent jubilee. To take only a fragment of the narrative, he says : " This place is 
annually visited by many thousand pilgrims, especially on the 14th September, and when- 
ever the 14th falls on a Sunday, the festivities are greater than usual. For the last ten 
days, even before we left Baden, and while in the French territory, we have met at 
almost every step troops of pilgrims plodding on their way to this Swiss Loretto. The 
parties seemed generally members of one family, or of one village, from the similarity of 
their dress, and they were invariably repeating their aves and paternosters aloud as they 
passed along, or uniting together in singing a hymn. They consisted almost entirely of 
the lower class of peasants, who repair to this spot from both far and wide. Alsatia and 
Lorraine, the Black Forest, Suabia, the Grisons, Bavaria, and the v.'hole of Switzerland, 
all contribute their quota to augment the throng. The average resort annually, between 
the years 1820 and 1840, was one hundred and fifty thousand." 

Very few parishes have more than one Protestant minister. There is no Swiss 
national church ; but in each cajiton, that formula of doctrine and order which has 
seemed best to the ruling powers has been established by public sanction. In respect of 
doctrine there is no great difference, so far as creeds go, Jjetween the different cantonal 
churches, almost all of them holding professedly bj^ the ancient Helvetic Confession ; and 
in point of order they are more or less strictly conformed to the Presbyterian mode], 
though in some cases with a slight infusion of the episcopal element, and in othera with 
certain leanings to the congregational system. Thus, as respects the appointment of 
the ministers, in some cantons the choice rests exclusively with the people, who have 
power to appoint and power to remove, independent of any superior control ; in other 
cantons the government nominates the clergy, and the people have not a veto on the 
appointment ; in other cases, the people send up a list to the government, with whom 
the final appointment rests ; in some cases a right of interference belongs to the body of 
clergy already in office ; and in one case, that of Neuchatel, the clerical body absorb the 
entire power, subject only to the supervision of the King of Prussia, who never interferes 
with their movements. For the most part, the Presbyterian parity is preserved amongst 
the clergy, the oflice of doijcn, which is the highest rank among them, being simply that 
of priiniis infer pares, the first among equals, and lasting but for one year at a time in 
the case of each occupant. In the canton of Bale, however, some vestiges of the Episcopal 
subordination are retained ; the first minister of the minster church in the city of Bale, 
holding a certain official pre-eminence amongst his brethren ; and his colleague, the 
second minister, bearing the title of archidiaconus, or archdeacon. The tenure by which 
the ministers hold their parishes is also very different in different cantons, some being 
elected for life, or until any fault worthy of deposition is committed ; others for a term 
of years, and others from week to week. 

" In the momitain districts," says Dr. W. L. Alexander, " Catholicism appears in mucli 
the same guise as it bore before the Reformation : it is the religion of an honest, untu- 
tored, and superstitious race, who receive it in all its integrity, submit to it -with undis- 
guised sincerit)', and regard Avith horror all who would call it in question. In the Italian 
states there is more of astuteness, more of mere formalism, less depth of feeKng and 
sincerity of devotion, but not less of bigotry or ignorance. In the French cantons 
Catholicism appears under a more cosmopolitan guise ; it is the religion of a jaeople 
acquainted with letters, accustomed to the usages of cultivated society, apt to be assailed 
by arguments directed against their faith, and consequently more versed in crafty devices 
and plausible reasonings. The Jesuits, who ever since the foundation of their order have 



THE JESUITS. 511 

been tke mainstay of the churcli of Rome, though their atrocious proceedings at times 
have excited the indignation of Roman Catholic sovereigns, and brought down the 
condemnation of the pontiif himself, have long been an active party in Smtzerland, 
seeking to propagate as ■well as secure the Roman Catholic faith, and for that end engaging 
in deep political intrigues, and in some instances plunging the country into civil war. 
Their head-quarters are at Fribourg ; and in Soleure, Schwitz, and the Valais they are 
strong and active. In the last of these cantons they procured, so late as the j^ear 1845, 
the passing of a law proscribing all assemblies, discussions, and conversations reflecting 
on the Roman Catholic church, under penalty of fine and imprisonment. The law also 
prohibited the possession of any book indirectly attacking the religion of the state ; so 
that, for having any book whatever which the Jesuit priest might pronounce unfriendlj'- 
to Roman Catholicism, a person might be amenable to the authorities. A Swiss writer 
has justly said, 'The Jesuits are the enemies of Switzerland, because they hate and 
would obliterate Swiss feeling and Swiss nationality. They are the enemies of Switzer- 
land, because they detest and aim at overthrowing its freedom. They are the enemies of 
Switzerland, because wherever they are, they try to appropriate the civil power, to abro- 
gate institutions, and to degrade the Swiss people into the condition of slaves under a 
priestocracy. In fine, they are the enemies of Switzerland, because they oppose all true 
intellectual education, and would put chains on men's minds, that they may the more 
easily enslave their persons.' " 

Mr. Woel gives a still fuller portraiture : — " Would you know, reader, what these 
Jesuits are ? They have been expelled from almost every kingdom in Europe for their 
political intrigues ; their political intrigues forced the emperor of China to drive them 
from Pekin and Pet-che-li. Their founder, Ignatius Loyola, was first a debauchee ; then 
he despised himself, macerated his flesh, and mastered it ; then grew into an ascetic, and 
becoming red hot with enthvisiasm, was thought by others, and thought by himself, to be a 
saint ; and by his enthusiasm won power over the enthusiastic. As happens generally, this 
enthusiasm burnt out ; but it left behind it habits, opinions, aims, enmities, friendships, 
adherents, power, and the prospect of boundless empire. And now Ignatius became another 
man ; the enthusiast grew into the chieftain. His fanaticism was past, his strong intel- 
lect and his force of character remained. Cold, calculating, guileful, and able, by his own 
experience of enthusiasm, to play on the enthusiasm of others, he climbed stejD by step, 
till his throne was as lofty and as sj)lendid as the throne of the pontiff' ; and he held an 
unrivalled army of hardy, devoted, and disciplined bigots imder his absolute command. 
Now read the orders which he gave them, which, though dead, he gives them still, and 
which each Jesuit slave still obeys. I took them from the Institute, the great work of his 
genius, the Jesuit's Bible. ' Most carefully let us strain every nerve to manifest the 
virtue of obedience, first to the chief pontiff, then to the superiors of the society, so that 
in all things in which obedience is consistent with charity, we may be prompt at the 
voice of each, as though it was the voice of Christ, obeying whatever is enjoined with 
speed, with joy, and with perseverance, persuading ourselves that every command is just, 
renouncing everjr opposite sentiment and judgment of our own by a sort of blind 
obedience .... and let each persuade himself that those who live under obedience should 
permit themselves to be carried and governed by Divine Providence, acting through their 
superiors, as though each was a corpse, which permits itself to be carried any where and 
to be handled in any manner ; or Kke the stick of an old man, which serves him who 
holds it wheresoever or in whatsoever thing he wishes to use it.' 

. " They are therefore to go to any part of the world at any moment, on any mission, 
without the least reluctance, and to call what may appear white, black, if the church 
asserts it to be so. Blind and chained with fetters of brass, for the love they bear to their 
society, their Delilah, the fathers grind like Samson in the prison house (see Judges 



512 SWITZEllLAND. 

xvi. 21), under tlie orders of their general and their superiors. Their souls are corpse- 
like; but their minds are a living enginery, overspreading the earth, and worked 
by one master engineer, towards one end, the subjugation of the human race to their 
sway. 

" They began in enthusiasm, they have gone on in policy : they had devotedness, they 
have ambition : they obtained power by great sacrifices, they keep it by vigorous exertion. 
Half' men, half machines, they give themselves up to their Machiavellian leaders, as 
Christians give themselves up to Grod. The Christian offers himself a living sacrifice to 
Christ, and burns like a flame of fire in his ennobling service : the Jesuit oiFers himself 
to be kicked, trampled on, or buried like a corpse ; to be used any where and in any thing, 
or thrown away at pleasure, as a stick, by an ecclesiastical politician : the Christian 
renders to Christ a thoughtful, intelligent, and generous devotedness ; the Jesuit bows 
with blind obedience to the will of tyrants whom he has sworn to serve : Christians are 
Christ's army, to struggle for the mental and moral emancipation of mankind ; Jesuits 
are the Pope's Cossacks, to deceive and enslave them." 

There has been much in the religious state of Switzerland of late years, to afflict those ^ 
who love the religion of the Bible, while events have not been wanting to excite hope of 
a bettor condition. Anothsr reformation is still needed ; and this can only take place 
from the diftusion through the length and breadth of the land, of divine truth, 
accompanied by that Almighty energy which can reniler it effectual to the enlightening 
of the mind and the purifying of the heart. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

THE S'J'ELVIO PASS — THE ORTLER SPITZ THE ^'AETELTNE. 

The great militaiy road over Mont Stelvio was constructed by the Emperor of Austria, 
as a new line of communication between his German and Italian states, and as having 
the advantage of not traversing any portion of territory belonging to another govern- 
ment. From Vienna two roads communicate with this pass, meeting at Prad. Shortly 
after leaving this village, the road begins to ascend the magnificent moimtain of the 
Ortler Spitz. A little beyond the barrier, this mountain suddenly discloses itself Avith 
an appalling effect, as it is seen from its summit to its base robed in everlasting snows, 
while enormous glaciers, descending from its sides, stream into the valley below the 
road. Immense masses of rock, in themselves mountains, throw out their black and 
scathed forms in striking contrast with the brightness of the glaciers which they 
separate. Mr. Brockedon considers the whole ascent from Drofoi as without a parallel 
in Alpine scenery. 

The road, which is admirably constructed, winds round the northern side of the deep 
ravine into which the glaciers sink, and so near to them that a stone may, with little 
effort, be thrown upon them. The summit of this extraordinary pass is the highest that 
has been made travei'sible for carriages in the Avorld ; it being 9,272 feet above the sea, 
780 feet above the line of perpetual snow in this latitude, and nearly half a mile 
perpendicularly higher than the pass of the Simplou. Yet the road on the summit is 
usually clear of snow by the end of July, and, except from occasional falls, continues so 
till September. A descent of 993 feet leads down to the inn and custom-house on the 
Monte Brauglio, over which there is a passage from the Valteline to the valley of the 
Adige. This was formerly a line of considerable commerce ; but as this route traversed 
a small part of the territory of the Grisons, the Austrian government made the new road 
ascend, by the defile of Drofoi, to a col a thousand feet higher. 

From the Monte Brauglio, a zigzag road leads down to the Wurmser-loc'h, a deep and 
appalling ravine, through which the Adda falls from rock to rock. This was formerly 
considered one of the most dangerous passes of the Alps, but is now rendered secure by 
galleries, either excavated in the rock or constructed by masonrj^ The extent of the 
road thus sheltered is 2,226 feet, besides 700 feet more so cut out of the side of the 
mountain as to be sufficiently guarded by the impending rock. This defile leads down 
to the Valley of Bormio. The little town of that name was formerly enriched by the 
transit of merchandise from Venice to the Grisous b}^ the old pass. The district of 
Bormio terminates at the narrow defile of La Sarra, which was then secured by a wall 
and a gate. Here the traveller leaves behind him the cold region, and descends with 
the Adda into the rich district of the Val Teline or Valteline. 

Valteline is a 'longitudinal valley on the Italian side of the PhsBtian Alps, drained 
throughout its length by the river Adda. This river rises at the foot of the Stilsfer Joch, 
over which the new road made by the Austrian government leads from the TjtoI into 



CHIAVENNA. 515 

Lombardy, across tlie district of Bormio, or Worms, wliich lies east of tlie Valteline, and 
then entering it at the defile of La Sarra, flows in a general direction from north-east to 
south-west, until it enters the valley of Como, at the western^extremity of the valley. 
Valtelina Proper is about forty-five miles in length, but including Bormio, which is a 
continuation of the same valley, it is fifty-five miles in length. It is bounded on 
the north by the Grisons, the main ridge of the Ehfetian Alps dividing the valley of the 
Adda from that of the Engadine ; on the south-east by the T3a-ol, from which it is 
separated by the lofty group of the Ortler and the Stilsfer Joch ; on the south by the 
Lombard provinces of Brescia and Como ; and on the west by the upper part of the Lake 
of Como, and by the district of Chiavenna, with which it is politically united. 

Chiavenna consists chiefly of the valley of the Liro, a stream which rises at the foot of 
Mount Splugen, and, flomng from north to south, joins the Maira, which comes from the 
Grisons. A few miles lower, the united stream enters the Laghetto, or upper Lake of 
Como. From the Splugen to the lake is a distance of about twenty miles. The three 
districts of the Valteline, Bormio, and Chiavenna have been united for ages under 
the same administration : first under the government of the Grisons, and, since the 
beginning of the present centurj', imder the government of Lombardy. For this 
reason thej^ are frequently included in historical archives under the general name of 
the Valteline. 

Under the former government great dissatisfaction long existed, and the crisis of 
rebellion was accelerated by an act of flagrant injustice. Many inhabitants of the 
Valteline, suspected of favouring the Spanish court, and particularly those who had 
opposed with the greatest zeal the introduction of the reformed doctrines, were arrested 
and conveyed into the country of the Grisons. Mock courts of justice were established 
in several places, by which the prisoners were fined to a large amount ; and some were 
even sentenced to the torture. 

Among the suiferers was Nicholas Eusca, a priest of Sondrio, who had gained the 
universal esteem of the Catholics by his imremitted resistance to the Protestant doctrines, 
and who, for the rigid austerity of his manners, was greatly revered by the multitude. 
A man named Chiappinus, and three gondoliers of Venice, were arrested under the 
suspicion of a design to assassinate Scipio Oalandrinus, the president minister of Sondrio, 
at the instigation of Pusca ; a confession of guilt, and of Pusca's privity, being drawn, 
under fear of torture, from Chiappinus. The governor of the Valteline referring the 
matter to the diet of the Grisons, Eusca was cited before that assembly, but declined to 
appear ; either, as his enemies pretended, from a consciousness of guilt, or, as his 
friends alleged, from a dread of putting himself in the power of the Grisons, so violently 
incensed against him. Having escaped from the Valteline, he waited at Bedano, where 
his cause was publicly pleaded before twelve judges deputed by the Grisons. Being 
acquitted of the charge, he returned to Sondrio, where with zeal, influenced by persecu- 
tion, he continued to oppose the establishment of a Protestant school at Sondrio — a 
favourite measure of the opposite party. 

His enemies, baflled in their first attempt, brought against him a charge of a more 
public nature : they accused him of opposing the decrees of the Grisons, and of exhorting 
the inhabitants of Morbegno not to bear arms against the king of Spain, the protector of 
the Catholic religion. In consequence of these insinuations, a troop of sixty Grisons 
arrived at Sondrio by night, and seizing Eusca, carried him to Tersis, where he was not 
only impeached of high treason in the temporary coiu't of justice then assembled, but, 
against every principle of equity, was likewise again examined for having abetted the 
assassination of Calandrinus ; and as he peremptorily denied these charges, he was con- 
demned to be tortured, and the horrid sentence was inflicted three times in the dead of 
night. Extreme suffering failing to extort from him any confession of guilt, he was, oa 

2 L 2 



51G 



THE TYLOL. 



the following night, twice subjected to the same dreadful agony ; and, with a frame that 
was weak and full of infirmities, he expired amidst the tortures. 





GiLILEirS I>. niE STLLVIO P \b3 



A spirit of fury was now raised among the people too violent to be appeased. The 
of Spain did not fail to increase the general ferment, and to suggest the most 



AVAR AGAIXST PP.OmSTANTISJr. 



517 



plausible motives for immediate insurrection. They represented, that as the Grisons 
•were convulsed by factions, and France disturbed by internal commotions, a most favour- 
able opportunity presented itself to shake off the yoke under which they groaned ; and. 




THE STELVIO PASS. 



aroused by these suggestions, the inhabitants resolved to commence hostilities by a 
general warfare against the Protestants. 

The daj^ appointed for accomplishing this horrid design was the 20th of July, 1620. 





SUMMIT OF THE STELVIO, AND THE OKTEER SPITZ. 



In the dead of night, Eobustelli, the leader of the conspiracy, accompanied by about a 
hundred followers, arrived at Tirano, and having assembled the chief Catholics of the 
place, laid befo: e them the purpose of extirpating the Protestants ; and the dreadful 



618 THJi TYKOL. 

proposal was read with all the zeal of resentment inflamed by fanaticism. At break of 
day, the signal for the massacre being given by ringing the bells, many of the inhabitants 
issued from their houses, and repaired to the market-place in anxiety and terror. The 
conspirators now fell on the Protestants, and encouraged the people to follow their 
example by destroying the enemies of the Catholic faith. Few words being required to 
exasperate an incensed and superstitious multitude, every person seizing the first arms 
that presented themselves, scoured the streets, stormed the houses, and assassmated the 
Protestants. 

During this dreadfvd scene, the podesta, his family, and some of the principal Pro- 
testants, took refuge in the town-house ; but the Catholics soon forced a passage, and 
burst into the apartment where the fugitives were collected. At the sight of the podesta 
and his wife on their knees, presenting their infant children with uplifted arms, their 
fury was for a moment suspended. But the barbarity of the inflamed multitude was 
implacable : the fugitives were first imprisoned, and then put to death, without distinction 
of sex or age. 

Some of the conspirators were now despatched to Teglio : they were dressed in red, as 
a signal to the inhabitants that the rising at Tirano had succeeded. The Catholics soon 
collected themselves into a body, and repaired to the church where the Protestants had 
assembled for divine service. One of them levelled his piece at the minister, who was 
preaching, but missing his aim, the Protestants arose, drove out the Catholics, and barri- 
caded the doors. The assassins then climbed up to the windows, and from them 
discharged their guns into the midst of the crowded audience ; and at length the doors 
were burst open, and all the Protestants were put to death : some, so called, renounced 
their profession, and so escaped with their lives. 

Another party made their way towards Sondrio, Avhere the governor of the Valteline 
resided. Apprised of their design, that magistrate ordered the inhabitants to take arms, 
and summoned the people of the neighboming districts to his assistance ; in obedience to 
this injunction, both Protestants and Catholics began to assemble, but the former were 
intercepted and destroyed. Some attempting to escape towards the Engadine and 
Pregalia, were overtaken in their flight, and involved in the common ruin. Even 
women practised every species of outrage on the bodies of the massacred. The Catholic 
troops, meanwhile, entered Sondrio, and exciting their partisans- with the cry of 
"Down with the enemies of the Catholic faith !" made a general slaughter of the Pro- 
testants. There was, however, one disjDlay of mercy. The governor was first 
imprisoned, but on the consideration that he had always treated the Catholics with 
mildness, was dismissed with his family, and escorted in safety to the confines of the 
Valteline. 

It would be revolting in the highest degree to enumerate any further particulars of 
this horrid massacre, or to trace its devastations in the several towns of the Valteline. 
It continued without intermission for three successive days ; nor were its horrid eflTects 
confined merely to those who were assassinated upon the spot. Many who had escaped 
into the countrj^ were hunted down like wild beasts ; others, after eluding the fury of 
their pursuers, were consumed by himger and fatigue ; and numerous dead bodies were 
discovered in the woods, caverns, and torrents. Several Catholics who were allied to the 
Protestants shared in the general disaster ; even women and infants were slain in the 
most deliberate manner. Some Protestants saved their lives by abjuring their religion, 
and manj, who refused to purchase their safety by this concession, were burnt alive. 

In the midst of this dreadful carnage, one instance of singular humanity deserves to 
be recorded. Bartholonieo Peretti, the principal Catholic at Berbeno, being exhorted to 
put all the Protestants of that town to death, apprised them of their danger, and assisted 
them in efiecting an escape. But this act of clemency was the occasion of his own 



THE VALTELINE. _ 519 

destruction, and he was executed as an enemy to religion. All the Protestants beiag 
destroyed or driven out of the country, the remaining inhabitants renounced their 
allegiance to the Grisons, and framing a new form of government, threw themselves 
imder the protection of the king of Spain, who sent an army to their support. 

The people of Bormio followed the example of the Valteline, with this difference, that 
they did not massacre, bvit only expelled the Protestants. Having entered into an 
oifensive and defensive alliance with the inhabitants of this valley, they also erected 
themselves into an independent commonwealth. 

The Grrisons, diAaded among themselves, were totally unequal to the chastisement of 
their revolted subjects. The Catholics were desirous of employing the mediation of 
Spain for the pui'pose of recovering the Valteline ; while the Protestants, inclined to 
vigorous measures, proposed an application to the Swiss cantons, Venice, and France. 
After A-iolent dissensions, which were hot terminated without bloodshed, the Protestant 
interest prevailed, and a deputation was sent to the powers above mentioned. 

Zurich and Berne instantly despatched a body of troops, while the Catholic cantons 
refused to act against those of the same persuasion with themselves. Venice, alarmed at 
the growing power of the house of Austria, and desirous of a passage through the 
Valteline, gave a flatteriag answer to the request of the Grisons, but deferred sending 
any actual succour. France too, having just emerged from a civil war, was more 
disposed to negotiate than to act with decision. Bassompierre was despatched to Madrid 
to solicit the restitution of the Valteline ; and although a league was concluded between 
the king of France, the duke of Savoy, and the republic of Venice, to assist the Grisons 
unless the Valteline were restored, yet all that could be obtained from the Spaniards was, 
that the forts of the valley should be placed in the hands of the pope ; but as the pope 
was a secret partisan of the house of Austria, and incKned to favour the rebellion of the 
Valteline, it was evident that he would restore the forts to the Spaniards upon the first 
opportunity. In this interval, the united troops of the Grisons, Zurich, and Berne, being 
defeated with great slaughter, the Valteline seemed upon the point of being for ever 
dismembered from the Grisons, when the French court, ■ suddenly changing its plan of 
operations, entered into the war with a zeal as sincere as it was politic, and vigorously 
interposed on behalf of the Grisons. 

This revolution in the French politics was owing to the ascendancy of Cardinal 
Eichelieu, who no sooner began to preside in the cabinet, than the Idngdom leemed to 
awaken from that deep lethargy into which it had sunk during the feeble administration 
imder which it had previously been placed. Richeheu, instantty perceiving the import- 
ance of the Valteline, without wasting a moment in deliberation, demanded an 
immediate restitvrtion of that coimtry, and enforced this demand by sending a detach- 
ment of troops to the assistance of the Grisons, ujider the command of the Marquis de 
Oouvres. 

The general, animated with the spirit of the new minister, penetrated into these 
parts, joined his army to the Swiss and Grisons, and in two campaigns drove the 
Spaniards from ' the Valteline, Ohiavenna, and Bormio. The two latter provinces were 
immediately restored ; birt when the Grison deputies repaired to the French general at 
Sondrio, to demand the cession of the Valteline, Couvres proposed that the exercise of 
the Protestant religion shoidd be abolished throughout the valley ; that the inhabitants 
should appoint their own magistrates, and pay a yearly tribute of 20,000 crowns;- and 
he showed himself so strongly inclined to circumscribe the authority of the Grisons over 
the inhabitants of the Valteline, that he was suspected of being bribed by the latter. 
But it soon appeared that this conduct was occasioned by directions from his court, and 
proceeded from a reconciliation which, imkiiown to the Grisons, had taken place between 
the kings of France and Spain. 



520 TH>: TiKor,. 

Eiclielieu, tlio soul of the French monarch}^, having now brought to maturity his 
project for subjugating the Huguenots, was too great a politician to be embarrassed with 
a foreign war at the eve of a civil commotion ; and well aware that he could not obtain 
possession of the Valteline without an expense of troops, which he could ill spare, 
temporised for the moment, and made overtures to Philip IV. The latter, harassed by 
the long continuance of hostilities, seemed equally desirous of an accomodation ; accord- 
ingly preliminaries of a new treaty were immediately adjusted by the contracting 
powers at Mosson, in Arragon. It was agreed, that the Valteline should again be 
restored to the Grisons under the following conditions : that no other religion but the 
Roman Catholic should be tolerated; that the inhabitants should elect their own 
governors and magistrates, either from themselves or from the Grisons, but always from 
persons of the Roman Catholic persuasion; and that the governors should be confirmed by 
the Grisons. In return for these privileges, it was stipulated that the inhabitants should 
pay an anniial tribute, the amount of which was to be settled by mediation. In conse- 
quence of this treaty, concluded on the 5th of March, 1626, the French resigned the 
forts of the ValteHne into the hands of the pope, and evacuated the country. 




THE STELVIO PASS, BORDERS OF TYROL 

In conformity with this alliance, the inhabitants having elected RobustelH, who began 
the massacre, for their governor, and appointed twelve magistrates, sent a deputation to 
Coire to demand the confirmation of the Grisons. The latter, however, were by no 
means disposed to accede to a treaty so destructive to the rights of the sovereignty 
which they possessed over the ValteHne. Openly excited by the republic of Venice,\nd 
secretly encouraged by the French minister, they refused to acknowledge the treaty of 
Mosson. But as they were not in a state to support their claims upon the Valteline by 
force of arms, they could only remonstrate and negotiate, without producing any imme- 
diate effect. 

Affairs continued in this state for three years, until Richelieu, having completed the 
reduction of the Huguenots by the taking of Rochelle, found himself in a situation to 
turn the whole force of France against the house of Austria, the diminution of whose 
power he had long meditated. He now threw off the mask ; the domiaions of the house 



TUE V\LTJ';HXE. 



521 



of Austria were invaded on all sides, and every part of Europe became tlie theatre of his 
vast designs. Among other enterprises, the Valteline engaged no inconsiderable share 




of his attention. The Duke of Rohan was despatched to the Grisons with a formidable 
army ; and, having worsted the Spanish troops in various encounters, dispossessed them 



5^22 THE TYROL. 

Upoa this decisive success, the French abated much of their solicitude for the interests 
of the Grisons ; and althoiigh they began the war with a positive demand of an uncon- 
ditional restitution of the Yalteline, yet they were no sooner in possession of the country, 
than they again professed, as on the former conquest, a great tenderness for the privileges 
of the inhabitants. They refused to surrender their acquisition to the Grrisons, unless 
upon terms more favourable to the people than had been offered even by the treaty of 
Mosson. 

The Grisons having no prospect of assistance from any other quarter, found themselves 
under a necessity of acceding to these huuniliatiug stipulations. The French, with a 
view probably of retaining the Yalteline in their own hands, continued to delay its 
restitution, and clogged every subsequent negotiation for that purpose with conditions 
still more tinfavoiirable. The Spaniards, artfully availing themselves of these circum- 
stances, held out to the Grisons the most flattering overtures of accommodation. The 
latter, encouraged by these Avell-timed offers, and incensed at the repeated instances of 
duplicity they had lately experienced, rose up in arms, and drove the French from the 
Yalteline. The treaty of Milan was the consequence of this revolution ; a close alliance 
was concluded between the Spaniards and the Grisons ; and the Yalteline was restored 
to the latter, under the guarantee of that very power which had originally excited the 
inhabitants to revolt. 

This treaty, contracted in the year 1635, secured to the Spaniards the passage of 
the valley, which had been the great object of the war, and restored the Yalteline, 
Chiavenna, and Bormio, to the Grisons under the following articles : An act of oblivion ; 
the immunities of the subject countries to be confirmed as they existed before the 
revolution of 1620 ; no other reKgion but the Catholic to be tolerated therein ; no person 
of any other persuasion to be permitted to reside, excepting the governors, during the 
two years they should continue in office, and the Protestants possessed of lands, who 
should not be permitted to remain in the country above three months in the year ; the 
privileges of the ecclesiastics to be restored in their full latitude. 

A few alterations were made in the government of the valley, and some regulations 
introduced, for the purpose of stemming the torrent of injustice and corruption that 
prevailed in the courts of justice before the revolution ; they consisted chiefly of a new 
method of nominating the governors, and of the creation of the office of assessor. The 
articles were guaranteed by Spain, and inserted in the capitulation, or treaty, and ratified 
in 1639, at Milan, in the presence of the deputies from the Yalteline. 

The deputies reproached the Spaniards for having summoned them to Milan, in order 
to be present, in silence and with tears, at the subversion of their liberty ; and when the 
treaty was announced to the inhabitants of the Yalteline, a general despair spread itself 
through all ranks. The people imiversally lamented that they had been deluded into a 
revolt under a jpromise of protection ; that they had expended, during this fatal war, 
above twenty-five millions of florins, nearly £2,000,000 sterling, for no other purpose 
than to secure an alliance between Spain and the Grisons, and to be restored to their 
original masters, exasperated by their revolt, and preparing to renew the former acts of 
injustice and tyranny which had driven them to rebellion. Nor were these murmurs 
ill- grounded ; for except the total exclusion of the Protestant religion, no material altera- 
tion was made in the fate of this vallej'-. 

Since this treaty, the laws have been no less perverted than before, the exactions of 
the governors have continued as exorbitant, and the courts of justice as iniquitous 
and corrupt. The change in the administration of justice proved no alleviation ; the 
creation of the assessor's office serving only to give the sanction of law to the most 
iniquitous proceedings, or to \ai'j the mode of oppression. This innovation has been, 
moreover, attended with this bad effect to the bulk of the inhabitants, that whereas, 



SONDKIO. 523 

the rebellion, tte nobles were isrincipally subject to tbe rapacity of the Grrison 
judges, the people have become more exposed to exactions since the pacification. 

As a natural consequence of such a state of things, complaints arose, and availing 
himself of them, General Bonaparte seized, in the year 1797, on the baili^vicks of the 
Valteline, Chiavenna, and Bormio, Avhich had been for centuries dependent on the 
Grrisons, and incorporated them with the Cisalpine republic. At the same time, all the 
property, houses, and lands belonging to citizens of the Grisons, which were situated in 
those districts, ^^ere confiscated to the amoimt of some millions of florins, and many 
families were thus ruined. In 1814, the Yalteline passed \inder the dominion of 
Austria, together with the rest of Lombard3^ The Austrian government, after some 
negotiations, recognised the claims of the Grison citizens who had been robbed of their 
property by the Cisalpine republic, and in 1823, granted them, or their heirs, an 
indemnity of 2,109,694 francs. 

Sondrio is the capital of the vallej^, the residence of the governor of the Valteline and 
of the vicar. The town, partly built in a plain, and partly upon the sides of a rock, is 
placed in a very romantic situation at the extremity of a narrow valley, and occupies 
both sides of the Malenco, a furious torrent which frequently overflows its banks. 
Many of the houses are very ancient ; for the arms of the Visconti, formerly the 
sovereigns of this countrj^, are' painted upon their waUs ; these arms representing an 
enormous serpent crushing a man between his teeth. The province of the Lombardo- 
Venetian kingdom, imder the crown of Austria, constituted of the three provinces, the 
Valteline, Chia^■enna, and Bormio, bears the name of Belegazione di Sondrio. 

The first chesnut trees are seen immediately below La Serra. The wine of the 
Valteline has an extensive celebritj'-. The mulberry-tree is cultivated here for silk- 
worms ; and so fertile is the soil, that two harvests of maize and other corn are gathered 
within the year. The road passes through a number of pleasant little towns and 
pictui-esque villages, crossing the Adda repeatedl}^, and afterwards i;unniug along its 
left bank to Colico, the port of the Valteline. Valteline Proper is thelargest and finest 
part of the whole province ; it has a genial climate and a fertile soil. The heat is very 
great in summer. All the fruit-trees of Italy thrive there. It has excellent pastures 
and meadow-land, and its cheese rivals the best made in Lombardy. The slopes of the 
lower hills along the northern side of the valley are covered with vines, planted in 
terraces. 

The Valteline, from its neighbourhood to Italj^, has imbibed a taste for the fine arts, 
and there are many collections of pictures which are not unworthy of notice. This 
country, however, has produced few artists of any eminence. Pietro Ligario is almost 
the only painter who deserves to be mentioned, and his name is scarcely known beyond 
the limits of the Valteline. 

Ligario vras born at Sondrio, in 1686, of the ancient family of Ligario, which took its 
name from a neighboming village of that appellation. Having discovered much talent, 
and a taste for the elegant arts, he was sent when very young to Eome, under the care 
of Lazaro Baldi, from whom he learnt that exactness of design which characterises the 
Roman school. From thence he repaired to Venice, where he passed some time in 
studying that exquisite colouring for which the Venetian masters are so admii-able and 
distinguished. He made himself first kno-wn at Milan, where he met with some encou- 
ragement ; and in 1727 he returned to the Valteline. He found, however, but little 
emploj'ment, until he was honom-ed with the patronage of Count Desalis, envoy from 
Great Britain to the repubKc of the Grisons. As he rose in reputation his business 
increased ; but being always very poor, he was frequently compelled to finish his pro- 
ductions with such haste, as rendered it impossible to give all of them that perfection 
which he was capable of bestowing. Hence arises that inequality which is so remarkable 



524 THE TYKOL. 

in Ms paintings. There is scarcely a cliurcli in the Valteline which does not possess one 
of his pictures : his most celebrated pieces are the martyrdom of St. Gregory, in one of 
the churches at Sondrio, and St. Benedict, in a chapel of a nunnery near the town. 
These were his latest performances ; and as, contrary to his usual custom, they were 
finished with great labour and exactness, may be considered as the test from which we 
ought to estimate his abilities as a painter. The figures are well grouped, the principal 




characters distinctly' marked, and the expression of the heads is admirable ; the style of 
colouring is lively without being gaudj^, and chaste without being dull. A few days 
after he had painted St. Benedict, he was seized with a violent fever, and expired in 
1752, in the 67th year of his age. Ligario is described by the connoisseurs as a painter 
who imited correctness of design to beauty of colouring. He is remarkable for grouping 
his figures to the best advantage, and his heads are drawn with a noble simplicity. It 



'J HE MUllET. 



525 



has, however, been objected that his figures often resemble statues; and the folds of his 
drapery fall with too much precision, like tlie wet drapery in the sculpture of the 
ancients. The character of his faces is chiefly Grecian ; but it is remarked that they are 
too similar to each other, and look like the portraits of persons who are of the same 
famil}^ 




Beside painting, Ligario was skilled in music, mechanics, and agriculture, and has left 
behind him specimens of no ordinary acquaintance with each of these arts. He made, 
for his own amusement, an organ of very large dimensions, and constructed a clock with 
a cylindrical pendulum, remarkable for the accuracy of its movements. He was so much 
addicted to the study of agriculture, that he wrote instructions to his family on the 
cheapest and best method of cultivation. He endeavoured to infuse into his son and 



526 THE TYROL. 

daughter, Csesar and Victoria, a fondness for the polite arts. They both followed their 
father's profession ; but although not without some degree of merit, they failed of equalling 
his reputation. Yictoria was chiefly distinguished for her skill in Tocal and instrumental 
music. 

In leaving the Valteline, it should be stated that Coxe has given us an account 
of his ascent of the Muret ; and we introduce it, lest the reader should overlook the 
neighbouring eminences. He saj^s : — 

" I quitted Sondrio, and went up the A'alley of Malenco, yielding vines, chesnut trees, 
rj'e, oats, and pasturage. As I ascended, the sides of the mountains were clothed with 
birch and firs, and their summits produced nothing but a scantjr herbage. The inhabitants 
of the valley appear healthier, better clothed, and more industrious, than the other 
peasants of the Valteline. In consequence of their distance from the seat of government, 
or of being in general too poor to excite the rapaciousness of the Grrison governors, they 
are, perhaps, less oppressed, and for the most part possess a small portion of land. The 
vallej'- is narrow, and watered by a torrent which forms a continual cataract. The road 
is a footpath, by the side of a precipice, and carried over huge fragments of rocks. I 
passed the night in a solitary hut at the bottom of the Muret ; the next morning mounted 
a rugged ascent ■ in the channel of a small stream ; observed nothing but bare rocks, 
without the least appearance of vegetation ; came to the top of the Muret, and passed 
over a large mass of snow and ice. 

" In these Alpine situations the traveller sees, within the space of a few hours, nature 
in all her shapes. In the Valteline she is rich and fertile ; here she is barren and 
stupendous. These regions are so dreary and desolate, that if it were not for an occasional 
traveller, the flights of a few strange birds, the goats browsing on the rugged Alps, and 
the shepherds who tend them, nature would appear quite inanimate. In these elevated 
spots, while I was 

' Placed above the storai's career,' 

I noticed the pleasing effects produced by the vapours and anists floating in mid air 
beneath me — circumstances finely felt and described by the author of " The Minstrel :" — 

' And oft the craggy cliff he loved to climb, 
When all in mist the world below was lost : 
What dreadful pleasTire there to stand sublime, 
Like shipwrecked mariner on desert coast, 
And -^iew the enormous sea of vapom', tost 
In billows lengthenmg to the horizon round, 
Now scooped in gulfs, with mountains now embossed !' 

" From the top of the Muret I descended about three hours a craggy, desolate, and 
uninhabited country ; and noticed the gradual increase of vegetation as I approached the 
road leading to Chiavenua, a little above Casazza. This passage over the Muret, which 
serves for the transportation of wine and other merchandise from the Valteline to the 
Grrisons, is only open about five months in the year." 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

THE CITY OF TRENT — ROVEREDO — THE COUNCIL OF TRENT. 

The city of Trent is situated in the Austrian province of Tyrol, and was once an 
independent bishopric of the Grerman emj^ire. It was secularised in 1803, though the 
bishop is still denominated a prince, and enjoys a revenue of about £4,000 a year. It 
lies in a deep and romantic valley, through which flows the Adige, in its course from the 
Alps to the Gulf of Yenice, and not far from where it debouches on the beautiful plains 
of Lombardy. The river is navigable up to the city, where it is spanned by a plain 
wooden bridge, about three hundred and fifty feet long. The streets are narrow, gloomy, 
and dirty, and have nothing to recommend them to the traveller. The bishop's palace 
is antique, but has an unsightly appearance : it is adorned, however, with very fine 
gardens. 'The cathedral is a remarkable building, and though deficient of any regular 
style of architecture, is highly carved and ornamented. The chief attraction of the 
city is the church of Santa Maria Maggiore, which is built entirely of red marble. 
Here it was the Roman Catholic council assembled ; and here is still found a ver}^ fine 
picture, in a high state of preservation, containing the portraits of the most distinguished 
members of that ecclesiastical conclave. 

A considerable commerce is carried on in Trent. From its navigable connexion with 
the Adriatic, from its central position, and from its command of several of the Alpine 
passes, its merchants might soon rise to eminence, and its people to wealth ; but their 
efibrts to extend their trade, and to supply the regions around with the comforts 
of other nations, are checked by the policy of the Austrian government. There are, 
however, some considerable silk manufactories in good operation in the city ; and the 
ladies of Europe, in using the best silk thread, little think that the greatest part of it 
is the production of Trent. But this article, being small in bulk, finds its way through 
the Austrian douaniers ; and from thence, by many channels, into every corner of 
Europe. 

Roveredo, taken by storm by the Archduke Sigismund, in sight of the whole Venetian 
army — on which occasion bombs were used for the first time — is situated in the middle 
of the pleasant Lazarina valley, which is planted with vines and mulberry-trees, on the 
river Leno, which flows through the town, and at a short distance from the left bank of 
the Adige, over which there is a stone bridge. The town, though not large, has many 
handsome houses, chieflj^ built of marble. The Corso l^uovo, especially, is adorned with 
fine edifices. The castle, surroimded with high walls, is also worthy of notice. The town. 
is the seat of several courts of justice, and has a gymnasium, three monasteries, an 
English convent with a school for girls, a public library, and some charitable institutions. 
The inhabitants manufacture silk, leather, and tobacco, and have a considerable trade 
in silk and twist. 

Ascending from E,overedo, the valley and city of Trent present an enchanting appear- 
ance. The country around is rich and beautiful. Lofty hills, covered with vineyards 



528 THE TyKOL. 

and gardens, producing the richest fruit, are finely contrasted with th« bold and naked 
mountains which form the background. AU the hills in the neighbourhood are dotted 
with elegant country seats and houses of the city gentry, who, more than in most 
German cities, seek the country as a residence. This arises from the unhealthiness of 




the town itself, which has a climate as hot as the tropics in summer, and almost as cold 
as Greenland in the winter. Those rural residences often display verj^ great taste in 
their construction and brilliancy in their appearance — every one perched on its own 
separate eminence, amidst blooming trees and flowering shrubs, while the bright blue 
river iiows from the gorge of the mountains, and winds round the hills and the south- 
west quarter of the city ; these, as you approach, form the only ornaments of Trent. 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT. 



529 



Its name is familial' to the world on account of the famous council held there, which was 
first opened in 1545, and extended through a period of eighteen years. This has conferred 
on this secluded Tyrolese city a celebrity which will never be forgotten. There the 
most avowed and strenuous efforts were made to check the work of Grod — the progress of 




the glorious Reformation. Under the pretence of reviewing the state of the popish 
hierarchy, the deep-laid scheme for the extermination of all heretics was determined on. 
From the walls of the church of Santa Maria, the fatal tocsin was sound'- d which 
involved the whole of Germany in the flames of civil war, with some occasional cessa- 
tions, for a hundred years. It deprived the empire of nearly one-half of its inhabitants, 

2 M 



530 THE TYROL. 

by the sword and by famine, devastated its fairest fields, and demoralised all that came 
within its influence. The cry of millions, whose dust is scattered through the plains of 
Saxony, the hills of Bohemia, and the banks of the Elbe, who were sacrificed to the 
tender mercies of Rome in those days of her violence, because days of her power, is 
doubtless now ascending to heaven : " How long, Lord, holy and true, dost thou not 
judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth?" 

The convocation of that coimcil had been ardently desired, not only by aU the states in 
Christendom, but, at first, by Luther himself, who expected that such charitable results 
might arise from it as would tend to compose the dissensions of the world. But the 
pope, then Paul III., had other objects in view. Having a ready tool prepared to his 
hand, in the ambitious emperor of Germany, Charles V., and being well supported by 
the cunning of his legates in the council, whose abilities soon gained an influence over 
the crowd of ignorant and indigent Italian bishops which formed the bulk of the 
assembly, all the corruptions of Popery were retained. One of its first acts was to 
canonise the apocryphal books, and to class them with the inspired records alone held 
sacred by the Jews and the first Christians ; another was to authorise the Latin Vulgate 
of the Scriptures as the only translation to be consulted. Doctrines, which had been 
hitherto received with some latitude of interpretation, were confirmed by the highest 
authority of Rome ; and many mere traditional rites were declared to be essential parts 
of worship. The breach between Protestantism and Poperjr, instead of being closed, was 
widened, and rendered fer ever irreparable ; the line between Christ and Antichrist, 
formerly almost indefinable in the judgments of even some good men, was drawn in so 
marked and decisive a manner, that it has served to keep asunder the principles of 
Divine truth from the soul-destroying superstitions of Popery to the present day. The 
members of that council thus closed the door — till then, it may be said, partially open — 
to shut out every ray of light that might tend to the reformation of their system, while 
they held up the spectacle to all the world of their determination to adhere to every 
error till the Scripture should be fulfilled, and great Babylon should " come up in 
remembrance before Grod." 

The history of the proceedings of the council of Trent has been penned by three 
different authors. Father Paul, of Venice, wrote an account of it when the event was 
yet recent, and some of its members stUl alive. Though a bigoted papist himself, he 
exposes the intrigues and artifices which marked the whole affair with consummate 
skill. This roused the Jesuit PaUavicini, fifty years afterwards, to publish a most artful 
apology for its proceedings, and the most subtle interpretation of its decrees. But 
Varges, a Spaniard, who attended in the suit of the imperial ambassadors, writing 
confidential letters to the Bishop of Arras, as the events took place, may be considered as 
the best authority on the subject. These letters, which were published, clearly show 
that it was anything but the " spirit from above " which guided their policy ; as neither 
simplicity of heart, nor sincerity of manners, nor love of the truth, was found among the 
members of the council of Trent. Its decrees were, however, subscribed by six cardinals, 
four of them being legates ; three patriarchs ; twenty-five archbishops ; one hundred and 
sixty-eight bishops, besides many of the inferior clergy. 

The Protestant princes were already in arms, and had assembled a considerable force to 
meet the onset of the emperor, who had been reinforced by aU. the papal troops, and a 
division or two of Flemings from the Low Countries ; but the former, although commanded 
by men of courage and character, lost their advantage by delay. Charles, by his superior 
energy and policy, gained several successes over the reformers ; and, in the end, the 
elector and the margrave fell into his hands. The pope, however, fearing lest Charles 
should tui'n his victorious arms against Rome itself, withdrew his troops, and found 
means to check the emperor's triumphs. This gave the reformers a breathing time to 



THE TYEOLESE. 531 

prepare for new struggles. Being now commanded by Maurice, who had seized Saxony, 
the electoral dominions of his imprisoned kinsman, he hotly pursued Charles with his 
troops, and nearly succeeded in making him a prisoner. He entered Innspruck at mid- 
night, only a few hours after the emperor and his attendants had left it, with all their 
baggage, money, and papers, to be plundered by the Saxons. Charles, iu miserable pHght 
and suffering deeply from the gout, fled in rain and darkness over the Alps, and at length 
arrived at Villach in Carinthia, but scarcely thought himself secure in that remote town. 

From this time, it may be said, the star of that ambitious and politic monarch set for 
ever. The short remainder of his reign shows nothing but reverses : he became deeply 
dejected in his mind, as well as overwhelmed with his bodily infirmities. At length 
he determined to abdicate all his crowns, and give up the entire sovereign t}^ 
of his several dominions to his son PhiHp, retaining only for himself a pension of a 
hundred thousand crowns. He retired to the monastery of St. Justus, at Placentia, in 
Spain, where he amused himself with trifles for a time. At length he fell into the 
deepest asceticism and self-mortification^celebrating, on one occasion, his own funeral 
obsequies in person. This last act of folly was too much for his shattered constitution ; 
he was seized the next day with fever, which shortly terminated his life, at the age of 
fifty-eight years_ and six months, about three years after his retirement from public 



Soon after Pope Paul III., who had convoked the council of Trent, and was the pre- 
siding evil genius of all the woes it entailed, also ended his violent and imperious reign, 
at enmity with all the world, but 'chiefly with those of his own household. The principal 
members of his family were soon after condemned to the punishment their ambition 
merited and their crimes had deserved. . Though the Reformation was not yet secure 
from the attacks of its enemies, and had to pass through many trials, its principal 
persecutors all disappeared from the theatre of Europe about the same time. 

The character of the Tyrolese, it may be remarked before we pass onwards, has many 
peculiarities which distinguish them from their neighbours. The}'- are of an honest, frank, 
and very independent spirit, and are strongly attached to their native land ; the object of 
the numerous emigrants being merely to save a small capital, with which to purchase a 
piece of land in their own coimtry. They are fond of manly games, and are a poetical and 
musical people. The German population are, however, unhappily addicted to intem- 
perance, and to this kind of excess are ascribed the many afii-ays, often attended with the 
infliction of dangerous wounds, which are more mmierous in the Tyrol than in all the 
other provinces of the empire together. The inhabitants of southern Tyrol have more of 
the Italians in their manners, language, and even their dress, while the north retains 
more of the character associated with distant times. 



? M g 



GHAPTEE XXXVIII. 



THE CITY OF THE SEA. 



The city at which we have now arrived has an intimate connexion with the country we 
have recently traversed. For if the map be consulted, it will be seen that the part of 
the Mediterranean that washes the eastern coast of Italy is called the Adriatic Sea ; and 
that its ujjper or northern portion receives all the waters which flow from the southern 
declivities of the Alps. These numerous streams discharge themselves in close succession 
along a line which equals thirtj' degrees in length, and which comprises the north- 
western corner of the Adriatic, and nearly the whole of its northern coast. 

The southernmost river is the Po, which comes, charged with waters, from both the 
Alps and the Apennines ; the northernmost, or rather the most easterly, is the Lisonzo, 
which has its origin in the mountains of Carniola. The most considerable of the many 
streams which the sea or gulf receives between these extreme points, are the Adige, the 
Brenta, the Musone, the Piave, the Livenza, the Lemene, and the Tagliamento. Every 
one of these rivers has a rapid course, and brings down, especially in the rainy season, 
enormous quantities of mud and sand, which, as soon as they reach the sea, and are 
released from the violence of the stream, are quietly deposited. The head of the Adriatic 
has thus become a bed of soft mud, extending between twenty and thirty miles from the 
shore, and covered with water not exceeding, for the most part, one or two feet in 
depth. This immense expanse, which cannot be considered either sea or land, is called 
the Lagima, in English, the Lagoon. It is navigable throughout only by skiffs, drawing 
a few inches of water, but wherever the rivers have cut a few channels for their passage, 
or artificial canals have been excavated, ships of considerable burden may ride securely. 

The Lagoon is not open to the sea ; its outer edge is embanked by a succession of long, 
narrow, sandy islands, or slips of land, which serve as so many natural breakwaters, and 
form, in fact, an impregnable barrier against the waves of the Adriatic. The entrances 
through this outer barrier are few, and the subsequent navigation through the still small 
waters of the Lagoon most intricate and difficult ; so that much skill, and a long 
acquaintance with the windings of the deeper channels, are necessary for a safe pilotage 
through the labyrinth which they present. 

The face of the Lagoon is sprinkled with a number of small islands, whose soil is of a 
firmer character than that of the shoals and mud-banks above which they are elevated ; 
some are clustered together, with only narrow channels between them, and others are 
scattered remotely, as so many outposts. It is upon a group which lies at the point 
where the western and northern coasts of the Adriatic meet, that the queen of these 
waters appears — the city of Venice. 

Mr. Rose describes the Lagoon as a great mud estuary, and likens it, in its relation to 
the Adriatic, to a side-closet, shut ofi" from a room by a partition, but communicating 
with it by doors. The embankment which protects the Lagoon from the inroad of the 



THE ANCIEXT VENETIA. 



533 



waves is the partition, the openings in it are the doors, and in a line with them, though 
not uniformly straight, are the passages or channels which bring ships to Venice. These 
openings of course break up the embankment into certain compartments, which comprise, 
beginning from the north, a long spit of land, on the side of the territory of Treviso, 
divided from the continent by back waters, estuaries, and canals. 

In ancient geography the name Venetia was applied to a large district which lay to 
the north of the Adriatic, and which constituted, according to the division of Augustus, 
the tenth division of the Roman empire. Before the irruption of the Barbarians into 
Italy, fifty cities are said to have flourished in peace and prosperity within the limits of 
this province ; the chief among them were Padua, important for its wealth and its 
ancient renown, and Aquileia, which was once the great bulwark of Italy on its north- 




eastern frontier, and, in the time of the geographer Strabo, the great emporiimi of the 
lUyrian trade. Their tranquiUity was disturbed by Alai-ic and his Goths, in the year 
452 ; and according to the common supposition, a nimiber of refugees from the conquered 
province sought shelter in the small islands of the Yenetian Gulf. Fifty years after- 
wards, the inroads of Attila and the Huns gave rise to a second and more extensive 
emio-ration ; the citizens of Aquileia then betook themselves to the isle of Gradiis (or, as 
we now call it, Grade), near the mouth of the Lisonzo, while those of Padua retreated 
to the Mwus Altus, on which the city of Yenice subsequently arose. Thus, as the 
poet says, — 



Flying away from him, whoso hoast it was 

That the grass grew not where his horse had trod. 

Gave birth to Venice," 



534 VENICE. 

and the savage conqueror, who so well displayed his ferocious pride in that memorable 
saying, was undesignedly the instrument of founding a republic which revived in the 
feudal state of Europe the art and spirit of commercial industry. 

The condition of the islanders about seventy years afterwards is described in a letter 
addressed to their " maritime tribunes," by Cassiodorus, the minister, or Prsetorian 
prefect, of Theodoric, the Gothic king of Italy. The writer quaintly compares them to 
water-fowl, who had fixed their nests on the bosom of the waters, an image which is 
repeated by a poet of our own, when he says that- 



Like the \vater-fo^yl 



They built their nests among the ocean- waves." 

The prefect allows that the proviace of Venetia had formerly contained many noble 
families ; but he insinuates that they were now reduced by misfortune to the same level 
of humble poverty. Fish was the common food of all ; and their only treasure was the 
salt which they extracted from the sea, and exchanged in the neighbouring markets of 
the continent. Want, however, had begotten enterprise ; the exiles had already become 
familiar with the dangers of the ocean, and their vessels, contimially increasing in size and 
number, visited all the harbours of the Adriatic. The extent of their maritime means 
may be generally inferred from the request which the epistle of Cassiodorus conveys ; he 
exhorts the tribunes, in a mild tone of authority, to animate the zeal of their countrymen 
for the public service, which required their assistance to transport the magazines of wine 
and oil from the province of Istria toliie royal city of Eavenna. 

The tribunes to whom the letter of Cassiodorus was addressed are supposed to have 
been twelve officers annually elected in the twelve principal islands. The tribunes 
met, on certain days, in council, to discuss and regulate public matters. In cases of 
importance, however, they convoked a " concio," or general assembly of the people, 
which decided by acclamation on questions proposed by the tribunes. Little more is 
Imown of the early form of government. The number of tribunes appears to have 
varied at different times, but all were chosen annually by the people. This state of 
thiags lasted for about two centuries and a half, during which the Gothic kiags of Italy, 
and afterwards the eastern emperors, although they did not interfere with the local 
government, seem to have considered the inhabitants of the Lagoon as their subjects, and 
at times required their services. 

In the earUer periods of their history the Venetians had to struggle with many 
difficulties. Their infant commerce was grievously oppressed by the pirates which every- 
where iufested the coast of the Adriatic ; and even in the shelter of their lagoon, the 
frugal merchants were not free from the inroads of those lawless wanderers. But their 
strength grew with the dangers which they had to encounter; and in 804, when attacked 
by Pepin, the son of Charlemagne, they employed large ships of war in their defence, 
and repulsed the invaders. At a very early period the Venetians began to trade with 
Constantinople and the Levant ; and notwithstanding the competition of the Genoese 
and Pisans, they continued to engross the principal commerce in eastern products tiU 
the discovery of a route to India by the Cape of Good Hope turned this traffic into a new 
channel. The crusades seemed but to augment their wealth, and to extend the 
commerce and possessions of Venice. A naval armament was fitted out at Venice, under 
VitaUs MicheH, for the service of the crusaders, which shows the power and wealth 
Which the people had acquired. Two hundred galleys assembled, and after vanquishing 
the fleet of the neighbouring republic of Pisa, they captured Ascalon, in Syria, and 
other towns. In after times, similar arrangements were prepared, and met with 
so much success on the eastern shores of the Adriatic, on the coast of Africa, and 



THE DOGE MARKYINO THE SEA. 535 

in the Holy Land, that the envy of the Greek emperors was excited, and a series of 
fierce engagements ensued between them. 

An event occurred towards the close of the twelfth century, which led to the Venetian 
ceremony of the " Doge marrying the sea." Pope Alexander, being. threatened with an 
attack from Frederick Barbarossa, solicited the aid of the Venetians. This was granted ; 
and on Barbarossa despatching a fleet of seventy-five very large galleys to the attack of 
Venice, forty-eight of his vessels were captured or destroyed. The pope, who had taken 
refuge in the city, signified his gratitude to the Venetians by presenting the doge with a 
ring, which he accompanied with the following declaration : " Take this ring, and 
present it to the sea, in token of your dominion over it. Enjoin your successors to 
perform annually the same ceremony, that succeeding ages may learn that j^our valour 
acquired this great prerogative, and has subjugated the ocean, even as a wife is subject 
to her husband." The absurd ceremony of " marrying the sea" was annually performed 
for many centuries after this event. The doge, attended by the senators, the chief 
nobility, and the foreign ambassadors, entered a splendid vessel, called the Bucentaur, 
which was fitted up with great elegance, was gilt from prow to stern, and covered with 
an awning of purple siUt. Having sailed out to the sea, preceded by the gondolas of the 
nobility, the doge threw a gold ring into the waters, saying, " We marry thee, 
Sea, in token of that true and perpetual dominion which the republic has 
over thee." The fallacy and folly of the entire proceeding require neither illustration 
nor enforcement. 

The maritime importance of Venice did not terminate at this period. The eastern 
emperor having been deposed, his son solicited the aid of the Venetians, and of Baldwin, 
earl of Flanders, to reinstate his father on his rightful throne. Venice fitted out a large 
armament, consisting of sixty gaUeys, "twenty ships -of war" — the distinctive character 
of which is not precise^ known — and several " transports." In gratitude for the service 
thus rendered to Earl Baldwin — who by its instrumentality had become emperor— he 
permitted the Venetians to wage war against, and to take possesion of, the Grreek islands in 
the Ai'chipelago ; and ultimately the whole of the Greek islands became subject to them. 
They secured also a chain of forts and factories extending along the coasts of Greece, 
from the Morea to Dalmatia, while they monopolised almost the whole foreign trade of 
Egypt. The preservation of these commercial advantages Venice had early usurped over the 
Adriatic, and the retention of her colonies and distant trading establishments, were measures 
pursued by the government with great skill and inflexible constancy. "With the single 
exception of Rome, Venice, in the fifteenth century, was by far the richest and most 
magnificent city of Europe ; and her peciiHar situation in the midst of the- sea greatly 
contributed to impress those by whom she was visited with still higher notions of her 
wealth and grandeur. She had arisen " lilie an exhalation from the deep," a gorgeous 
fairy scene, — 

" A -vast metropolis, with glistening- spii-es, 
With, theatres, basilicas adorned." 
" The revenues of the republic," to use the language of Robertson, " as well as thd 
wealth amassed by individuals, exceeded Avhatever was elsewhere known. In the mag- 
nificence of their houses, in the richness of furniture, in profusion of plate, and in every^ 
thing which contributed either towards elegance or parade in their mode of liying— the 
nobles of Venice surpassed the state of the greatest monarch beyond the Alps. Nor was 
all this the display of an inconsiderate dissipation ; it was the natural consequence of 
successful industry, which, having accumulated wealth with ease, is entitled to enjoy it in 
splendour." The same writer teUs us, that about the year 1420, the naval force of the 
republic consisted of 3,000 trading vessels of various dimensions^ on board of which were 



536 



emploj^ed 17,000 sailors ; of 300 ships of greater force, manned with 8,000 sailors ; and 
of 45 large carracks, -with 11,000 sailors : while in the arsenals were employed 16,000 
artificers. 

The government of Venice was certainly one of the most singular that has ever existed. 
In her earlier period she was governed by doges, the word signifying "dukes," from the Latin 
dux; and thus dogate and dogado are formed from dmafus, " a duchy." The doges were 
anciently sovereigns ; but latterly, the prerogatives devolving iipon him who held this 




1 '^ 



rank were, to give audience to ambassadors, but not to make answer as from himself in 
matters of importance ; and as first magistrate, he had also to preside at all the councils. 
The credentials with which the senate furnishes its ministers were written in his name, 
but usually signed by the secretary of state, who also sealed them with the arms of the 
republic. The despatches sent by ambassadors were addressed to him, and yet he dared 
not open them except in the presence of his councillors. All the magistrates rose and 



THE DOGE. 537 

saluted the doge when he came into council, but he rose only to foreign ambassadors. 
He was, in fact, " a mere pageant of state." 

The office or dignity of the doge at Venice was formerly elective for life. He was 
" the chief of the council, and the mouth of the republic," being regarded as the chief 
minister, though not the sovereign of the people. In reality, he was merely " the 
phantom or shadow" of the majesty of a prince, all the authority being reserved to the 




^■^filK' 



republic. He only lent his name to the senate, and his power was diffused throughout 
the whole body, though the answers were all made in his name. His own replies were 
always couched in very cautious and generaltarms, otherwis3 he was certain to meet with 
a reprimand. Under this form of government, which has been-stjded a loose mixture 
of monarchy and democracy, the Venetians suffered much from domestic troubles : 
the authority of the doge was respected so long as he was popular and successful, but 
the caprices of a fickle multitude always exposed him to the chances of a violent 



538 VENICE. 

death. " It is a remarkable fact," says Mr. Eoscoe, " that out of the first fifty doges of 
Venice, five abdi cated, five were banished with their eyes put out, five were massacred, 
and nine deposed." The Turkish sultans themselves have scarcely experienced a 
worse fate. 

The popular element which had long existed in the government of Venice was 
ultimately greatly diminished. A grand couucil was established, which included almost 
all the principal citizens ; and though the people on several occasions resorted to violence 
in endeavouring to recover their lost authority, they were wholly unsuccessful ; and after 
various struggles, it was resolved in 1319 that the grand council should no longer be 
elected, but that ths dignity should be hereditary in its members.* The aristocracy 
was thus established on a solid foimdation ; but no sooner had this been done, than the 
dignified families became jealous of each other ; and to avert the chance of any individual 
acquiring a preponderating influence in the state, a carefulljr devised scheme of indirect 
election to all the higher offices was established, at the same time that the nobles 
subjected themselves, the doge, and everybody else, to a system of despotism, which not 
only determined the public and private conduct, but, in some measure, even the very 
thoughts of individuals. This was accomplished by a council of ten, instituted from 
the body of the grand council, and it was greatly furthered by the selection from the 
council of ten of three state inquisitors, who were invested with imlimited authority. 
The proceedings of this most formidable tribunal Avere shrouded in the most impenetrable 
secresy ; but it was believed at the time, and is now certain, that it did not wait for overt 
acts, but proceeded on suspicion and presumption ; that it had secret prisons ; and that it 
made free use of the agency of spies, torture, and even of assassins. An individual 
disappeared, by what means no one knew ; but if it were supposed that he had fallen a 
victim to the fears or suspicious of the inquisitors, his relatives prudently abstained from 
all complaint, and even from making any inquiries about him. Nothing, in fact, but 
implicit obedience to established authority, and a perfect abstinence from every sort of 
political preference and remark, could enable any individual, however high or low, to 
sleep securely in Venice. 

In the year 1508, the pope, the emperor, the king of France, and the king of Spain, 
entered into a confederacy, known by the name of the league of Cambray, for the purpose 
of humbling or destroying the power of Venice. The republic escajped with some losses, 
and had soon afterwards to encounter the rising greatness of the Turks. But the hour of 
her decline had approached. " Columbus and Vasco de Gama," says Mr. Eoscoe, 
" humbled a power which neither popes, princes, nor sultans could unsettle or overthrow 
-"their discoveries tore away its pomp and glory, as the diffusion of knowledge in a 
subsequent ago humbled those of Rome." "When the rulers of Venice first heard that a 
passage had been found to India by the Cape of Good Hope, their sagacity at once 
foresaw the consequences, and already in anticipation they felt their strength departing ; 
they saw themselves shut out from the rich trafiic with the region of the sun, and the 
" golden stream turned to enrich another." Before the sixteenth century had closed, the 
republic had sunk from her high position among the powers of Europe, into the rank 
of a secondary state ; and while her resources were rapidly diminishing, she had to 
withstand the powerful enmity of the Turks. In this she succeeded for a long while, — 
long enough, indeed, to ward off' from Christendom the dangers which menaced it at the 
hands of the infidels, and to entitle the republic to the proud appellation of " Europe's 
bulwark against the Ottomite ;" but the treaty of Passarowitz, in 1718, left her with 
scarcely more than a fragment of her vast dominions in eastern Europe. Yet, even 
while thus declining) Venice maintained in some degree her ancient state and splendour ; 

* Dai'u, vol. i.j p. 618. 



FALT, OF THE REPUBLIC. 539 

and as her rulers had the msdom to conceal her weakness under the guise of moderation, 
she continued to be treated with respect, 

" till a tempest shook 



All things most held in honour among men, 

All things the giant with the scythe had spared, 

To their foundations, and at once she fell." » 

It would have been strange indeed, if a state, worn out and enfeebled as Venice was, 
had safely passed through the storm which followed the French Revolution. After 
maintaining for some time an unwilling neutralitjr, and allowing her territories upon the 
continent of Italy to be repeatedlj^ overrun by Austrians and French in the course of 
their warfare, she exhibited symptoms which excited the displeasure of Bonaparte. 

The resolution of the Directory, after the 18th Fructidor, not to despoil Venice, was, how- 
ever, repeatedly and strongly expressed. Barras wrote to Bonaparte on the 8th ' Sep- 
tember : — " Conclude a peace, but let it be an honourable one ; let Mantua fall to the Cisal- 
pine republic, but Venice must not to the emperor. That is the wish of the Directory, 
and of all true republicans, and what the glory of the republic requires." Napoleon 
answered, on the 18th September : — " If j^our ultimatum is not to cede Venice to the 
emperor, I much fear peace will be impracticable ; and yet Venice is the city of Italy 
most worthy of freedom, and hostilities wiU be resumed in the course of October." The 
Directory replied : — " The government now is desirous of tracing out to you with precision 
its ultimatum. Au.stria has long desired to swallow up Italy, and to acquire maritime 
power. It is the interest of France to prevent both these designs. It is evident that if 
the emperor acquires Venice, with its territorial possessions, he will secure an entrance 
into the whole of Lombardy. We should be treating as if we had been conquered, 
independent of the disgrace of abandoning Venice, which you describe as worthy of being 
free. "What would posterity say of us, should we surrender that great city, with its 
naval arsenals, to the emperor ? Better a hundred times restore to him Lombardy, than 
pay such a price for it. Let us take the worst view of matters : let us suppose, what 
your genius and the valour of your army forbid us to fear, that we are conquered and 
driven out of Italy. In such a case, yieldiag only to force, our honour at least will be 
safe; we shall still have remained faithfid to the true interests of France, and not 
incurred the disgrace of a iKvfidy wUliout excuse, as it will induce consequences more 
disastrous than the most unfavourable results of war. We feel the force of your objection, 
that you may not be able to resist the forces of the emperor ; but consider that your 
army would be still less so some months after the peace, so imprudently and shamefully 
signed. Then would Austria, placed by our hands in the centre of Italy, indeed take us 
at a disadvantage. The whole question comes to this : Shall we give up Italy to the 
Austrians ? The French government neither can nor will do so : it would in pjfeference 
incur all the hazards of war."* 

On the 15th of May, 1797, a French force of 5,000 or 6,000 men crossed the Lagoon 
in boats, and took possession of the city without a shadow of resistance on the part of 
the Venetians ; and on the same day the rulers of Venice, self-deposed, pronounced the 
dissolution of its ancient government, so long the glory and the security of the 
commonwealths The French general himself, Baraguay D'Hilliers, was astonished at the 
facility of the conquest. " The sea-girt metropolis," says Simond, " might easily have 
been defended ; and the artificers of the arsenal alone, a brave and devoted body of men, 
would have been abundantly sufficient to man a fleet of small vessels, superior to any which 

* Corresp. Confid. de Napoleon, iv. 233—235. 



the invaders could assemble ; while the rest of the population, although, perhaps, lukewarm 
only, would have been stimulated to resistance if the example had thus been given them. 
It was the pusillanimity of the nobles which gave confidence to the party opposed to 
them. They betrayed themselves into the hands of an enemy, whom they had first 
provoked by an imprudent display of hatred, and afterwards, when seriously threatened, 
had encouraged by their submissiveness." Thus fell the celebrated city and republic 
of Venice : — ' 

" She who had stood yet longer than the last 

Of the Four Kingdoms, — who, as in an ark, 

Had floated down amid a thousand wrecks, 

Uninjured, from the OldAVorld to the New, 

From the last glimpse of civilised life— to where 

Light shone again, and with the hlaze of noon." 

Venice is, perhaps, the only city in Italy that derives no portion of its interest from 
classic recollections and remains, its name alone being related to ancient history. Yet it 
has an antiquity of its own, scarcely less venerable than that which invests with real 




CANAL AT VENICE. 



grandeur the memorials of the Eoman empire. It is of all modern things the oldest. 
The republic of Venice was, at the period of its overthrow, the most ancient state in 
Europe.* Its origin precedes, by seven centuries, the emancipation of the Lombard cities. 
Its fall was by nearly three hundred years posterior to the subjection of Florence, 
the most interesting of the republics of the middle ages. " Venice," in the words of the 
elegant historian of those republics, " witnessed the long agony and the termination of 
the Roman empire ; in the West, the birth of the French power, when Clovis conquered 
Gaul ; the rise and fall of the Ostrogoths in Italy, of the Visigoths in Spain, of the 
lionibards, who succeeded to the first, of the Saracens, who dispossessed the second. 
Venice saw the empire of the caliphs rise, threaten to invade the world, divide, and 
decay. Long the ally of the Byzantine emperors, she, by turns, succoured and oppressed 
them ; she carried off trophies from their capital ; she shared their provinces, and joined 
to her other titles that of a fourth and a half of the Roman empire. She saw the Eastern 
empire fall, and the ferocious Mussulmans rise on its ruins. She saw the French monarchy 



FIRSr SIGHT OF VENICE. 



541 



give way ; and, alone immoveable, this proud republic contemplated tlie kingdoms and 
the nations whii',h passed before her. But, after all the rest, she sunk in her turn ; and 
the state which linked the present to the past, and joined the two epochs of the civilisa- 
tion of the universe, has ceased to exist."* 

Manini, the hundred and twentieth doge, and the last, was chosen in the year which 
gave birth to the Fi'ench Revolution. After witnessing the fall of the republic, and the 
further humiliation of its contemptuous cession to Austria by Napoleon, in the treaty of 
Campo Formio, he died in 1802. In 1805, Venice ssvas annexed to the French kingdom 
of Italy ; but, in 1814, returned definitely mider the sway of Austria. The administra- 
tion of Austria, since the Restoration, has, however, been applied gradually, but effectually, 
to alleviate, in some degree, the distress of Venice. Pecuniary assistance from the treasury 
of the kingdom, a better employment of the commercial revenvie, a great diminution of 
local taxation, the establishment of a free port, and important public works, at the 
expense of the government, have in some measure answered the intended purpose. 

It is strange, and yet true, that many of the pictures we have of Venice are portrayed 




CANAL BY MOONLIGHT. 



by those who never saw this " city of the sea." Schiller, for example, was one of these ; 
the glimpses of it he has conveyed are mere general outlines, true, so far as they go, yet 
faintly drawn, and without the colouring he could have supplied from actual sight. Mrs. 
Radcliffe, also, paints, with great beauty, moonlight landscapes — masques and music — 
but there is only one aspect of Venice in all she depicts. Our sketches must be of a 
different character. 

"The approach to Venice from Mestre," says a modern traveller, "is anything but 
promising. From Padua we kept looking out in vain for a first view. Our way was 
along a dusky road, with a canal on one side, and cabbage gardens with statues as 
common as cabbage-stalks on the other. At length we saw one long, unusual-looking 
black boat. Hurrah ! a gondola ! We arrive at last at that little Italian Wapping, 
Mestre, where we are, but not to-day, to embark. Driving to its shabby locanda, and 
having too much time on hand, we ask for the high canal to Venice, and being duly 
instructed, proceed along an unsavoury suburb, and come suddenly upon an unwholesome 
extension of yellow-brown water. ' Eccola !' says our guide. The place where this 
* Sismondi. 



542 VENICE. 

eccola was pronounced, this prospect of the land of promise, was crowded with ragged 
and seedy-looking gondolas, and dirty fellows to row them. How unlike the fairy boats 
we expected, and the gondoliers that chant Tasso (in the books) as they propel them ! 
To he rowed along such a rank-smelling sluice as we saw before us, for rowing's sake, 
was not in question, so on we walked by its bank for nearly half an hour, the water 
gradually improving a little in complexion. Indeed, a few fish could now be seen with 
their tails towards Mestre, and making the best of their way to the Adriatic. Discerning 
little fish ! A large green lizard \vhich we here took into captivity, and kept in a 
cage for half the summer, was the only object of any kind in our walk, and the only 
green thing we saw, except the water. At last we come to a bend in the canal, and see 
Venice. That Venice ? No, it can't be ! and yet again it must : towers, and spires, and 
domes, seen over a dead swamp, and about seven miles ofi' in the direction we were told 
to look. It is Venice, by all that is flat, stale, and disagreeable. It is our doom to pass 
the night at Mestre, as we may ; early to-morrow those long sea canals, with the dull 
swamp which they intersect, shall no longer be between us and those ancient and 
renowned dominions of St. Mark." 

But let us take another scene, sketched with the same power. " To apostrophise 
distant Venice as the tourists do, as a city of noble edifices rising out of the sea (such 
being unquestionably the fact), is all very well, and very veracious ; but to plain vision, 
any given city, divorced from the magic of its name, rising out of water, and at some 
miles' distance, must appear, while this earth is round, very much the same as if it had 
the misfortune to be below water level. At such a distance, the naked eye, though it 
may make out eminences, and ascertain lateral extension, and some forms of masses of 
buildings, can certainly do nothing more, and has no legitimate right to admiration ; 
and even when you draw near Venice, the first buildings oifered to sight (which, like 
pawns on a chess-board, screen the grander pieces from view) are by no means of a 
character to suggest that they spring up as bj'^ ' an enchanter's wand,' rather than in the 
usual course of scaSbld-building. Enter the first narrow canal, with its raised quays, 
dirty boats, dirty crews, and dirty water — find j^ourself afloat in what might not unfitly 
be termed the Dutch quarter of Venice, and dei^end upon it you will not quote Byron ; 
nay, you will almost lose your faith in Oanaletti, Cromek, and Prout. You vote Beckford 
and others to be no better than writers for efl'ect, who had no legitimate calling to go 
abroad and make quiet people at home envious of things which are but fictions. All 
think it incumbent on them here to be poetical — even Eustace waxes warm ; and as to 
the lady travellers and book-makers, they regularly fall into hysterics of several pages of 
inverted commas, and inverted common sense. When we, or if we, publish our travels, 
they shall be at least safer guides through these dangerous shallows. "While we say all 
this to ourselves, appearances begin to mend — one watery way hands us over to another — 
we pass along streets that literallj'- run into each other. We have within the last five 
minutes seen an occasional gondola of consideration fastened by its bridle to some gay 
coloured pole planted in the water, and we have seen more than one darting off' with 
liberated rein from the sea-washed door-steps of a stately palace. At length the low 
arch of a very small bridge is right before us. What can lie the reason that at this spot 
our gondoliers make a couple of strong strokes ? The strokes are made, and they 
have shot us into the middle of the Rialto ! ! Now, indeed, a sudden murmur 
of delight did rise from our boat, unfreighted as it was Avith inverted commas. At this 
first adequate view of patrician Venice, palaces, Gothic windows, and marble steps 
crowded with gondolas, rows of colossal masks, and statues projecting over, and scarcely 
liigher than the water's edge, chimneys with beehive and bell-shaped tops, which look 
like bits of Alhambra brought and placed on each side of this vast Regent-street, only 
paved with water, along which countless boats, sharp as the ari'owy swordfish, drop their 



GENERAL PLAN OF THE CITY. 543 

fills as they glide by, and then strike out again in a thousand directions, — one minute 
more, and long before we get tired of admiring object after object as they glance from 
door to door, or balcony to balcony, we stand where Lord Byron says he stood, and 
are looking through the prison bars, where St. Mark's lion, cupolas without number, 
domes, towers, and palaces, come simultaneously into sight. We clap our hands 
in delight, and spring out oil the hotel steps, full of enthusiasm and sight-seeing ! !" 
Rogers, in his p oem of Italy, has said : — 

" There is a glorious city in the sea : 
The sea is iu the broad, the narrow streets, 
Ebbing- and flowing' ; and the salt sea-weed 
Clings to the marble of her palaces. 
No track of men, nor footsteps to and fro, 
Lead to her gates. The path lies o'er the sea, 
Invisible ; and from the land we went, 
As to a floating city, — steering iu, 
And gliding up her sti'eets as in a dream, 
So smoothly, silently, — by many a dome, 
MoscLue-like, and many a stately portico. 
The statues ranged along in azm-e sky, — 
By many a pile in more than Eastern splendoui', 
Of old the residence of merchant kings." 

The arrangement of the parts of the city may be easily understood. The shoals on 
which it stands are gathered into two great clusters, divided from each other by a 
serpentine channel, called the Grand Canal, but communicating across it by the 
celebrated bridge of the Rialto. Thus there are two principal portions, each one made 
up of several small islands, and each entirely cut oflF from the other, except at this 
bridge. All these little islands themselves, so constituting each of these separate 
portions, are again connected together by smaller bridges, which cross the little channels 
dividing them from one another. Now, as the islands are numerous, these bridges occiu- 
frequently, and as their arches are necessarily high, because they spring from low banks, 
they present a very steep ascent, which is cut into easy steps for the convenience of 
passage ; so that, as Mr. Rose says, when you take a walk in Yenice, you are perpetually 
going up and down stairs. It should also be remembered that each of the two great 
divisions of the city has all its little fragments well connected by nimierous bridges, but 
that the two divisions themselves have only the one point of communication already 
described, where they are joined by the Rialto. 

These canals are the water-streets of Yenice, the thoroughfares by which her citizens 
usually pass from one district to another. The Grand Canal is the main channel of 
commrmication — the high street, as it were, of the city, sweeping from one end of it to 
the other, and cutting it into two distinct qirarters ; the other canals are so many lanes, 
or smaller streets, branching from the great trunk, and winding into every remote 
corner of each quarter. 

It is not, however, to be supposed that the canals of Yenice are her only thorough- 
fares ; lilie other cities, she has streets, though streets such as no other city can show ; 
narrow, paved, commodious and noiseless passages, in fact, by which you may pass, — 
thanks to her multitude of bridges — without the aid of a boat, from one point to another. 
Though the hoof of a horse or the rumbling of a wheel is never heard in these straight 
avenues, they are of great resort for all the purposes of ordinary intercourse. Besides 
these streets there are several open places or squares of smaU size, which bear the 
appellation of campi, or fields, though it will be difficult to detect on any spot a single 
blade of grass. Along the banks of the canals there is frequently a sort of wharf or 
footway, styled a riva ; this is usually secured by a parapet, which is bored by a wicket ; 



544 VENICE. 

but the canals more frequently extend close up to the houses, which rise immediately 
from the water on either side. 

The direction from which travellers usually approach the city is from Padua, 
whence the journey to Fusina, a sort of custom-house station on the coast, or rather on 
the margin of the Lagoon, may be performed either hy water upon the Brenta and its 
canal, or by land upon the high road which runs alongside. The banks of the Brenta 
have always been the favourite resort of the Venetians during the heat of summer and 
autumn ; and we read much of the palaces and villas with which they were once 
adorned. The river, however, is but a dull, muddy stream, while its banks are flat, and 
generally destitute of large trees. 

The most splendid part of Venice — " the court end," in fact, of that remarkable city — 
is the Grande Piazza di San Marco, and the piazetta which leads to it, forming the state 
entrance to Venice from the sea. The latter is at right angles with the great square, 
branching off in a line with the church of St. Mark. On one side, and turning a side 
front to the port, is the old palace of the doges ; on the other side are the beautiful 
edifices of the Zecca, or Mint, and the Library of St. Mark, the regular architecture and 
fresh and modern appearance of which seem to mock the fallen majesty of their antique 
neighbours. On the sea shore, which forms the fourth side of the Piazza, stand two 
magnificent granite columns, each of a single block ; one crowned with the winged lion 
of St. Mark, in bronze ; the other bearing the statue of St. Theodore, who appears to 
have been the first patron of the city. The lion was carried off by the French, but he has 
since been restored to its ancient position, where he 

" Stands in mockery of his withered power." 
Between these columns, in former times, public executions took place. In a line with 
the ducal palace, viewed from the sea, and divided from it by a narrow channel, is the 
city prison. A covered bridge or gallery, at a considerable elevation above the water, 
links the palace to the dungeon. It is to this spot that Byron alludes in the fourth canto 
of " Childe Harold :"— 

" I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs ; 

A palace and a prison on each hand : 

I saw from out the wave her structures rise, 
. As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : 

A thousand years their cloudy wings expand 

Around me, and a dyin^ glory smiles 

O'er the far times, when many a subject land 

Looked to the winged lion's marble piles, 

Where Venice sat in state, throned on her hundred isles." 

"The lyre of Byron," it has been said, "has a peculiar propriety in conimencing his 
poem ; because the Bridge of Sighs is the finest spot for a prospect, where Venice really 
seems rising like water-columns from the sea." " The Canal Orfano, the Ponte di 
Sospiri !" says Mr. Whyte, " what a day to behold these long-pictured images of darkness 
and terror for the first time ! Such a blaze of May sunshine, such a soothing repose, 
broken bj'- a few distant bells or the nearer laugh of the gay gondoliers. I looked upon 
the narrow, immured waters under the Bridge of Sighs, then to the high arch that, like 
the heavy embossed clasp of some old solemn book, united its decorated Gothic piles 
(those volumes of bloody story) on either side, and instead of shuddering at inquisitions 
and racks, and Piombi and Pozzi, as in common decency I ought, away fled my intractable 
thoughts to merry England's old Sabbath chimes, her village spires, village greens, 
village elm lanes, and decent peasantrJ^ 

" Yet those high and antique abodes of venerable crime, those wild barbaric piles, in 
which old age palliates and almost hallows infamy, giving it somewhat the" same 



THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS. 



545 



prescriptive sanctuary as Milton bestows on the Palace of his Pandemonium ! That cruel 
slinking flood, the only firmament the stone-vaulted pits below were conscious of ! Each 
looked as malignant and dangerous as they could beneath the triumph of such a glorious 
sun ; that light to which their aspect once was hateful, and their deeds untold. 

" My gondolier dipped his oar into the canal under the Bridge of Sighs, and at half its 




length it was arrested by a hoUoAV substance which he told me was the marble roof of the 
Pozzi, whose unfathomable tiers of dungeons stretched one under another beneath this 
dreadful water gallery. It was not here, however, that the secret midnight drownings 
took place (as I had fancied), but in that widest, deepest portion of the Canal Orfano, 
far out in the lagoons situated between the towery Isola Servilio and the lovely groves 

2n 



546 VENICE. 

and monastery of San Grazia. This murder-liole of the Adriatic is called Marani, and to 
this day it is forbidden to fish in its accursed depth. To-day it looks not only innocent, 
but gloriously bright." 

According to Lord Byron, this communication by a gloomy bridge, or covered gallery, 
is divided by a stone wall into a passage and a cell. The state dungeons, called jjoss«, 
or wells, were sunk in the thick walls of the palace ; and the prisoner, when taken out 
to die, was conducted across the gallery to the other side, and being then led back into 
the other compartment, or cell, upon the bridge, was there strangled. The low portal 
through which the criminal was taken into this cell is now walled up, but the passage 
is still open. The pozzi are under the flooring of the chamber at the foot of the bridge. 
There were formerly twelve ; but on the first arrival of the French, the Venetians hastily 
blocked or broke up the deeper of these dungeons. " You may still, however, descend 
by a trap-door, and crawl down through holes, half choked by rubbish," continues his 
lordship, " to the depth of two stairs below the first range. If j^ou are in want of 
consolation for the extinction of patrician power, perhaps you may find it there ; scarcely 
a ray of light glimmers into the narrow gallery which leads to the cells, and the places 
of confinement themselves are totally dark. A small hole in the wall admitted the damp 
air of the passages, and served for the introduction of the prisoner's food. A wooden 
pallet, raised a foot from the ground, was the only furniture. The conductors tell you 
that a light was not allowed. The cells are about five paces in length, two and a half in 
width, and seven in height. They are directly beneath one another, and respiration is 
somewhat difficult in the lower holes. Only one person was found when the republicans 
descended into these hideous recesses, and he is said to have been confined sixteen years. 

" But the inmates of the dvmgeons beneath had left traces of their repentance, or of their 
despair, which are stiH visible, and may, perhaps, owe something to recent ingenuity. 
Some of the detained appear to have ofiended against, and others to have belonged to, 
the sacred body; not only from their signatures, but from the churches and belfries 
which they have scratched against the walls." 

With great vividness, power, and feeling, says Mr. Whyte — 

" ' Like an unrighteous and an unbui-ied ghost' — 

do 1 nightly haimt that Tartarus of antique masonry, the interior canals of Venice, 
uniformly entering or departing from them by the Bridge of Sighs. To me their 
hideous height, their appalling gloom (for the meridian cannot touch their waters, and 
the moon glides like a sjDectre over their huge parapets), their bewildering intricacies, 
their joyless weltering floods, the countless bridges, each with its sculptured monster- 
heads yawning as if to swallow up the silently sweeping gondola in its arch of shadow ; 
their deep dead silence only broken by the sullen plash of the oar, the dreary word of 
warning uttered by the gondoliers before turning a sharp angle, or the shrill rattling 
creak of innumerable crickets ; but principally those old Gothic posterns with deep- 
ribbed archways, like rat-holes in proportion to the enormous piles, and their thresholds 
level with the Water, some blockaded with ponderous doors, others developing their long 
withdrawn passage by a lamp, that not only makes darkness visible, but frightful; while 
others (as in the Martinengo palace to-night) disclose wide pillared halls, and stately 
staircases, and moonlight courts — to me, I sajf, all these attributes of the iaterior of 
Venice are irresistible. Were you to see these old porticoes by a summer's daylight) 
you would not fail to find an old fig-tree in broad leaf and full fruit, or a lattice-work of 
vine, most pleasantly green in its deep court, where sun and shadow hold divided reign j 
while the hundred-shaped windows of those gloomy Walls are variegated with geranium 
an^ carnation, and perhaps a sweet dark eye fairer than either. 

" They are so obviously the symbols of her hoUoW oligarchy itself, which to the world 



SQUARE OF ST. MARK. 547 

and lo the sun in heaven (like the hravc palaces on her chief canal) displayed a gallant 
guise, at once sublime, glittering, and august; while, within, its tortuous policy was 
twisted into murky and inextricable labyrinths, of which Necessity, Secresy, and 
Suspicion, formed the keystone ; where Danger lurked at every winding, and whose 
darkling portals were watched by Mystery, and Stratagem, and Disgrace, and Fate ! 

" It is impossible to scrutinise these dread abysms of mansions without experiencing 
that strange mixture of repugnance and attraction which certain spectacles are wont to 
call forth in animated nature. It is impossible to mark their melancholy and downfallen, 
yet portentous aspect, without deeming them at once the theatre and monument of those 
secret, black, and midnight crimes,' which history and tradition ascribe to the domestic, 
as well as to the state policy, of this Grehenna of fourteen centuries' dominion. 

' Visendus Ater flumine languido 
Cocytus errans.' 

" Perhaps it would be difficult to conceive anything more abhorrent to the soul and 
body of man than the time, manner, and place of death, distinguishing those executions 
which have rendered the gulfs of the Canal Orfano immemorably infamous. 

" To me, the element, in its most serene and smiling state, wears a look of furtive 
menace ; and I am free to confess, that even when gliding on a midsummer night over 
that sweetest lake of Derwentwater, beneath the shadows of its moonlit isles and fair 
pavilions, I have not been without a certain sensation of uncomfortable awe. But what 
must have been the feelings of the victim, whether criminal or innocent, who, from this 
accurst Maranna, cast around him his last straining look of agony, and uttered his last 
cry of supplication or despair ! The conviction that his family, parent, wife, or son, 
were at that hour of horror in profound ignorance sometimes of his very absence, often of 
its cause, or at least, only perplexed with conjecture, and always unconscious of its horrible 
event, must have constituted no trifling pang in that mortal hour. Then that old 
familiar, though melancholy water, more terrible to his feelings than the dreariest 
wilderness of ocean ! For, girdling the dusky horizon, could he not see the domes and 
campaniles of Venice, perhaps the very lamps in his own palace windows, from whose 
festal saloons he had just been decoyed ; just distant enough to be beyond the reach of 
help ; but too, too near for that despairing gaze, that recognised and bade adieu for ever 
at the same glance ? There, too, were not those nestling lovely islands, each with its 
convent tower gleaming to the moon, and from which the sonorous bells were tolling, 
the sacred anthems swelling for the last time on his ear ! Alas ! those chanted masses 
were not for his conflicting soul ; yea, it would have a strange comfort to feel that passing 
bell was proclaiming to the world that his spirit was parting from its scarcely worn 
Weeds 1 But no! even that miserable solace was prohibited to him; he Was to be 
obliterated from society, and his inexorable judges had decreed that society was not to 
know that he was gone. No grave for his dust, no monument for his name, to palliate 
his fa\ilts and perpetuate his virtues. The ghastly element that moaned and shuddered 
under the gondola, as if remorseful for its own involuntary cruelties, was to spread its 
weltering pall over his hearseless bones." 

The first sight of the grand square of St. Mark, especially when the stranger comes 
upon it unexpectedly, after threading the narrow canals of the city, is extremely strikingi 
It is an oblong area, about eight hundred feet by three hundred and fiftyj and flagged 
overi Two sides of it consist of regular buildings, of rich and varied architecture, with 
deep arcades. On the north side are two edifices which take their name from having 
been originally erected for the accommodation of the procurators of St. Mark. On the 
Western side is the grand staircase of the Imperial Palace. 

The principal objects which meet the eye at the further end of this grand architectural 

2*; 2 



548 



avenue, are the Cathedral, the Orologio, and the Campanile. In front of the church are 
three tall, red, mast-like poles, supported on handsome bases of bronze, from which, in 
former days, the flags of Candia, Cyprus, and the Morea — the three vassal kingdoms of 
the haughty republic — floated in the wind. They are still decorated, on festival days, 
•with gaudy streamers. The Orologio, or Clock Tower, forms the termination of the left 
hand, or northern side. 

The Campanile is interesting, as having been the scene of Galileo's astronomical 
observations while resident at Venice. It was erected about the year 1150 otl older 
foundations. The ascent is by means of a series of inclined planes, " broad enough for a 
coach ; " and one of the French kings, Evelyn saj's, actually went up on horseback. 
The bell is of great size ; and, to a person on the summit, the sound is almost deafening, 
and produces the most unpleasant sensations. A magnificent panoramic view is obtained 
from the summit. The eye can distinctly trace, from this elevation, every channel and 
shoal in the lagoon ; the long, narrow chain of islands that separates them from the 
main ; the wide and busy part just beneath ; " the whole city lying," as Evelyn says, 
"in the bosom of the sea, in the shape of a lute ;" the branching canals and numerous 
bridges (said to amount to four himdred and fifty) ; the sinuous course of the Great 




PALLAZZOLO, NEAR BELXIA. 



Canal, broken only by the apparently slender and graceful arch of the Rialto ; the 
distant suburbs, occupying the surrounding islands, with the low, flat shores of Lombardy, 
the rugged Euganean hills, backed by the Tyrolese Alps, and far across the Gvdf of 
Trieste, the blue mountains of Istria, rising like distant clouds above the eastern horizon. 
The busy crowds in St. Mark's Place immediately below look like ants crawling about 
without any appai'ent object." 

To adopt Mr. Ruskin's description of the Church of St. Mark, after alluding to an 
English cathedral : — " There rises a vision out of the earth, and all the great square 
seems to have opened from it in a kind of awe that we may see it far away ; a 
multitude of pillars and white domes clustered into a long low pyramid of coloured 
light; a treasure heap, it seems, partly of gold and partly of opal and mother of 
pearl, hollowed beneath into five great vaulted porches, ceiled -nith fair mosaic, and beset 
with sculpture of alabaster, clear as amber and delicate as ivory, — sculpture fantastic and 
involved, of palm-leaves and lilies, and grajpes, and pomegranates, and birds clinging and 
fluttering among the branches, all twitied together into an endless network of buds and 
plumes ; and, in the midst of it, the solemn forms of angels, sceptered and robed to the 
feet, and leaning to each other across the gates, their figiu-es indistinct among the 



TriE HIALTO. . 549 

gleaming of the golden gvound ttrougli the leaves beside them, interrupted and dim, 
like the morning light as it faded back among the branches of Eden, when first its 
gates were angel-guarded long ago. And round the walls of the porches there are set 
pillars of variegated stones, jasper and porphyry, and deep-green serpentine spotted with 
flakes of snow, and marbles that half refuse and half yield to the sunshine, Cleopatra- 
like, ' their bluest veins to kiss '-^-tlie shadow, as it steals back from them, revealing line 
after line of azure undulation, as a receding tide leaves the waved sand ; their capitals 
rich with interwoven tracery, rooted knots of herbage, and drifting leaves of acanthus 
and vine, and mj'-stical signs all beginning and. ending in the cross ; and above them, in 
the broad archivolts, a continuous chain of language and of life — angels and the signs of 
heaven, and the labours of men, each in. its appointed season upon the earth ; and above 
these another range of glittering pinnacles, mixed with white arches, edged with scarlet 
flowers, — a confusion of delight, amid which the breasts of the Greek horses are seen 
blazing in their breadth of golden strength, and the St. Mark's Lion, lifted on a blue 
field, covered with stars, until at last, as if in ecstasy, the crests of the arches break into 
a marble foam, and toss themselves far into the blue sky in fiashes and wreaths of 
sculptured spraj^, as if the breakers of the Lido shore had been first bound before they 
fell, and the sea-n5^mphs had inlaid them Avith coral and ariiethj^st. 

" Between that grim cathedral of England and this what an interval ! There is a 
type of it in the very birds that haunt them ; for Instead of the restless crowd, hoarse- 
voiced and sable-winged, drifting on the bleak upper air, the St. Mark*^3 porches are full 
of doves, that nestle among the marble foliage, and mingle the soft iridescence of their 
living plumes, changing at every motion, with the tints hardly less lovely, that have 
stood unchanged for seven hundred years." 

The Piazza is almost the only place in which the population can assemble for the 
purpose of public festivity. On this spot, therefore, passed the strangest vicissitudes : — 

" The sea, that emblem of uncertainty, 
Changed not so fast, for many and many an age, 
As this small spot. To-day 'twas full of masks. 
And lo ! the madness of the carnival^ 
The monk, the nun, the holy legate, masked ; 
To-moiTOW came the scaffold and the wheel ;, 
And he died there, by torchJight, bound and gagged, 
Whose name and crime they knew not." 

The bridge called the Eialto, a name originally derived from the island of Rivo-alto, 
the cradle of Venice, was commenced in 1588, and completed in 1591. It is situated 
nearly in the middle -of the Great Canal, which traverses the whole city, dividing it into 
two nearly equal portions. It is formed of one elegant elliptic arch, about eightj'-three 
feet wide. A double row of shops — twenty-five on each side — are built upon the bridge, 
which divide it, in fact, into three distinct though narrow streets. As it is of great 
height in the centre, it is ascended and descended by long flights of steps. 

The church of St. Eocco has been erroneously ascribed to St. Rocco ; its architect was 
Scalfarotto. The school of St. Rocco has been admired, but the architecture is more 
fanciful than beautiful. The walls of this ancient convent are covered with frescoes by 
Tintoretto, among which are some fine representations of the ravages of the plague. 
Mr. Rose describes these paintings as peculiarly interesting. He had previously seen at 
Florence many works of this master ; but these, he says, " viewed separately, give no 
more idea of the powers of the painter, than a stray canto of Ariosto does of those of the 
poet. The seeing of this grand assemblage of his paintings produces something lilte the 
effect of reading the Orlando ; and Tintoretto may be truly characterised as the Ariosto 
of pictures." 



550 . VENICE. 

Other churches of Venice we have no space to particularise, only remembering that 
the one of Alexander III., at San Aponal, is at present a house of correction for beggars. 
An inscription over a gateway records that the Pope coming here incog., when chased 
by Frederick Barbarossa, the gondoliers would not row him. over to Carita, and he slept 
all night on the beach, where is now a small niche chapel, with a taper. 

The Dogana, or custom-house, claims notice from its connexion with the commerce 
that long formed the glory of Venice. The present edifice has, however, been erected 
only about two hundred years. The Arsenal, which opens on the port at no great 
distance from the quarter of St. Mark, was, at one time, the finest and largest ia Europe. 

Venice has been famed for its manufactory of beads for more than four hundred 
years. Sheaves of glass, waving like corn, may be seen in the laps of women, who sit 
assorting the vitreous harvest according to its size. In another stage, a number of men, 
with shears, are clipping the long threads into very small bits, the elements of the beads. 
In the next room lie fragments of three hundred colours, and feathers innumerable, 
filling forty or fifty baskets. A very distressing part of the operation is to be seen 
below, where, on approaching a long shed, open on one side to the air, and glowing 
with thirty fires in all its length, stand a number of wretches, whose daily and hourly 
employment it is to receive the bits of sifted glass, cut as we have just seen, and to melt 
them into beads, by means of charcoal and sand, in the midst of these dreadful fire- 
blasts, which they are constantly feeding, and within three feet of which they stand, 
streaming at every pore, stooping to draw out the cauldron and pour its contents upon a 
tray, which they then, in this state of their bodies, drag forth into the air. A new 
copper of cold materials already awaits them, which must be thrust forthwith into the 
furnace, and the superintendent is there to see that there is no remission. The turning, 
the feeding, the renewed sweat, cease not till night comes to put a pause to miseries 
which are to last for life ! No wonder that the workmen all die young. 

Venice has long been the great book-shop of the south. It still prints for Italy in 
general, and for modern Grreece, and exports largely to Germany. Most of the gondolieri, 
it is said, as well as the artificers and tradesmen, can read and write. There are sixteen 
or eighteen public schools, each corporation of tradesmen having one : the buildings 
appropriated to them are mostly handsome, adorned with marble statues and pictures. 
There are also four musical schools sfor instructing young women, which are efiiciently 
conducted. The pubHc library is frequented by few, but there are several circulating 
libraries for novels. 

The most interesting printing establishment at Venice is that conducted by the 
Armenian monks in the Tsola San Lazzaro, from which the convent derives a considerable 
part of its revenue. When all monastic institutions were abolished by the French, in 
1810, this was excepted by a special decree. The island, which is entirely occupied by 
the convent and its gardens, is between four and five miles from the city. The fathers, 
who are about forty in number, have the reputation of being very learned. The prior in 
1816, a noble Armenian of high birth, spoke English with great accuracy, and had 
translated the prayer of St. Nierses, the patron of the order, into fourteen languages. 
One principal object of the foimder was, to aflbrd to young Armenians the means of a 
liberal education. None but youth of that nation are admissible, and they are taken at 
an early age. The chief design of the press, which is worked by the hands of the monks 
themselves, is the preservation of the Armenian language, and the multiplication of 
works in that dialect. The library is said to be rich in Armenian manuscripts. These 
labours, together with the cultivation of the little vineyard which surrounds the cloister, 
and dips iuto the sea, leaves not much idle time to these truly respectable ecclesiastics. 

" Venice," says a modern traveller, " was always an unintelligible place, and is still 
unintelligible. I knew before that it was situated on many islands ; that its highways were 



PECULIARITIES OF THE CITY. 551 

canals ; that gondolas were its hackney-coaches ; that it had St. Mark's, and the Rialto, 
and the Doge's palace ; and I know no more now. It was always a dream, and will 
continue a dream for ever. A man must be born, or live long enough to become endeared 
to it, before he will either understand or feel at home at Venice. It is a glorious place 
for cripples, for I know of no use that a gentleman has for his liaibs ; they are crutches 
to the bed- ridden, spectacles to the blind. You step out of j'our gondola into your hotel, 
and out of j'our hotel into a gondola ; and this is all the exertion that is becoming. The 
Piazza di S. Marco, and the adjoining quay, are the only places where you can stretch a 
limb ; and if you desire to do so, they carry you there, and briag you home again. To 
walk requires predetermination, and you order your gondola, and go on purpose. 
To come to Venice, is to come on board ; and it only differs from ship-board, that there 
is no danger of sea sickness. The Canal Grande is nearly three hundred feet wide. 
Other canals are wide enough, but the widest street in the city is not more than ten or 
twelve feet from house to house, and the majority do not exceed six or eight. To wind 
and jostle through these irregularities is intolerable, and all but impossible; no one 
thinks of doing so ; and who would that had a gondola at command ? The gondola is aU 
that is delightful ; its black, funereal look in high imaginative contrast with its internal 
luxury. You float on without sensible motion ; its cushions were stolen from Slammon's 
chambers — " blown up, not stuffed ;" you seat yourself upon one of them, and sink, sink, 
sink, as if it were all air ; you throw your leg upon another, and if you have occasion for 
it, which is rare at Venice, must hunt after it^ — lost, sunk. 

" Travellers, and Canaletti's views, which are truth itself, give you a correct idea of 
Venice, but no idea of the strangeness of a first visit. It is not merely that there are 
canals and gondolas, but it is all canal and gondola. I know nothing to liken it to, but 
a large fleet wind-bound : you order your boat, and row round ; and all that are at 
leisure do the same. St. Mark's, of an evening, that attracts all in the same direction, is 
but a ball on board the commodore. If you laugh at this as extravagant, you will be 
right ; but it is only extravagant because there is nothing real to compare with it. The 
fleet wind-bound is truth itself, and you have only to change the Redentore into the 
Spitfire, and the Salute into the Thunderer bomb, and it is real in feeling. If the 
common people want a peach or a pomegranate they hail a boat ; for the very barrow- 
women (if you will keep me to the reality, and drive me to the absurdity of such 
phrases) go floating about, and their cry is that half song, with the long dwelling 
on the final syllable, with which sailors call ' Boat a-hoy ! ' "With all this, there is no 
place you would so much like to spend a winter at ; and because of all this, it is so 
strange, new, and perplexing. The Venetians are said to be the most delightful people, 
and at Venice is said to be the pleasantest society in Europe. It is impossible to doubt 
it. Society is the sole purpose for which they come here. ' They live on the continent, 
and Venice is but a huge pleasure-house. 

" A stranger maj' soon feel delight in Venice ; but I doubt if he would ever feel at 
home. Every hour would be a contradiction to his whole passed existence. There must 
be thousands here who never saw a hill, or a weed, or an ear of corn growing, or a 
vineyard, or a green field ; or heard a bird sing, except in a cage ; or slaked a thirst, 
even in this thirsty climate, at a spring-head, or saw its waters bubbling forth out of the 
earth : spring water, like other luxuries, is an importation. 

" Everything at Venice is dream-ldie ; for what is more so than to walk on the 
Hialto, where Antonio spat on the Jew's gaberdine ? — to stand where Othello addressed 
the assembled senate ? — to lose yourself in search of old Priuli's palace ? And, for 
realities, go to St. Mark's on an evening ; see its fine square in all its marble beauty — 
the domes and minarets of its old church ; the barbaric gloom of the Doge's palace ; its 
proud towering Campanile ; look upon the famous Coriathian horses, and think of their 



552 \-ENICE. 

emigration, on the' winged lion of the Piraeus ; walk in the Illumination of its long line 
of cafes ; ohserve the variety of costume — tlie thin veil covering the pale Venetian 
beauty — the Turks with their beards and caftans, and long pipes, and chess-playing — 
the Greeks with their skull-caps and richly-laced jackets : look on this, and believe it 
real ; and ever after put faith in the Thousand and One Tales. 

" But Venice is everything delightful. It is the most picturesque city in Europe, and 
full of character and variety. In all its palaces and public buildings you may read 
' sermons in stones.' The history of Venice is written upon her front, from the rude, 
massj"-, frowning architecture of barbarism and power, to modern elegance and 
imbecility ! " 

Of the state of society in Venice, our earlier travellers gave but a very unfavourable 
picture. Addison represents it to have been " the refined parts of the Venetian wisdom, 
to encourage idleness and luxury in the nobility, to cherish ignorance and licentiousness 
in the clergy, to keep alive a continual faction in the common people, to connive at the 
viciousness and debauchery of convents." The Venetian nuns were "famous for the 
liberties they allowed themselves." Bishop Burnet gives a similar picture of the state of 
morals. " The Venetians," he says, " are generally ignorant of the matters of religion ; 
to a scandal ; and they are as unconcerned in them as they are strangers to them : so 
that all that vast pomp in their ceremonies and wealth in their churches, is affected 
rather as a point of magnificence, or a matter of emulation among families, than that 
superstition hath here such a poAver over the spirits of the people, as it hath elsewhere ; 
for the atheism that is received by many here is the dullest and coarsest thing that can 
be imagined. The young nobility are so generally corrupted in their morals, and so 
given up to a most supine ignorance of all sorts of knowledge, that a man cannot easily 
imagine to what a height this is grown." 

The Venetian ladies, the worthy prelate stigmatises as bred to ignorance and indolence, 
gross in their intrigues, and the insipidest creatures imaginable. The impartial Daru, 
speaking of the Venetian women, remarks that " the corruption of morals had deprived 
them of all their power {empire) : on reviewing the whole history of Venice, we do not 
find them to have exerted, on a single occasion, the least influence." 

The Venetian women are styled by a recent traveller "superb;" there is something 
peculiarly bewitching in their air and gait; "but I believe," significantly adds Mr. 
Matthews, " they are but little changed since the time of lago." 

The intense love of pleasure, the corruption which springs from unbridled luxury, and 
the recklessness of privileged profligacy, must, however, have undergone a very consider- 
able abatement by the disastrous reverses of later years ; and in the substratum of the 
national character there would seem to be much that is estimable. " Of the gentiluomo 
veneto," says Lord Bj^ron, " the name is still known, and that is all. He is but the 
shadow of his former self, but he is polite and kind. It surely may be pardoned to him 
if he is querulous." " The Venetians are certainty," says Mr. GraHffe, " an affec- 
tionate, kind-hearted set of beings, very cheerful, lively, active, fond of pleasure, of music, 
dancing, dress, and everything that is gay. Almost all the yovmg men of eighteen or 
twenty years of age play on the guitar, and give serenades every evening to the yoimg 
females of their acquaintance. . . . The Venetians are the most agreeable companions in 
the world." 

" As to literary society," writes Mr. Rose, " though clever men are to be found in 
Venice, I do not believe that it exists. General society has, probably, gained from the 
change of government and the influx of foreigners. ... The favourite society of Venice, 
that of the coffee-houses, where both sexes assemble, is, generally speaking, to be enjoyed 
at all hoiirs. To a certain degree this is even applicable to private society. There are 
several ladies here who open their houses, where, from nine at night till three in the 



VEXETrAN SOCIETY. 



553 



morning, there is a constant flux and reflux of company, of different ages, sexes, and 
conditions ; not to speak of many smaller circles. Here all foreigners are well received ; 
but to be an Englishman is to bring with j^ou a sure letter of recommendation. He who 
is once asked, is always welcome.- Moreover, he may go in boots, in a great coat, and, to 
small parties, even in a tabarro, the cloak of the countrj^ ; and when there, without being 
squeezed or stewed, may find people right and left who are anxious and qualified to 
converse with him. The society of Venice may indeed be compared to the fire in the 
glass-houses of London, which is said to be never out ; for there is also a continual 
morning assemblage at the house of one lady or other, who, in the phrase of the country, 
tiene appartcDiienfo, or, in that of London, is at home. This appears to be a sort of 
substitute for the casinos, now nearly extinguished. Society at Venice is on so very easy 
and rational a footing, that if it is to be enjoyed anywhere, it is here." 

Formerly, a noble Venetian must have eight cloaks ; three for the masks ; one for 
the spring-fete of Ascension, when the doge mai'ried the sea ; one for autumn, for the 




SCENE NEAR VENICE. 



theatre and ridotto ; one for winter, for carnival — these three were called Bauta ; 
two for summer, both of white tafieta ; one of blue cloth, for winter, common ; one of 
white cloth, for great occasions ; and one of scarlet cloth, for the grand church ceremo- 
nial days of the republic. The Venetians have now but little taste for balls ; and masques 
have gone out of fashion. The wild bufiboneries and joj^ous extravagancies of other 
• days would not withstand the atmosphere of later times. The love of play has 
survived ; and Mr. Simond, who will not allow that the Venetians have any energy but 
for sensuality, adds, that they have "no passion but for cards." These sweeping stigmas 
are seldom just. For national character, we must look to the manners and amusements 
of the lower orders. "Florence and Venice," Mr. Eose says, "are the 'two places in 
Italy where you find popular drollery in its greatest perfection, and of that gay and 
natural cast which characterises the humour of the Irish." This is more or less difiused 
all over Italy ; but the Venetian wit has its peculiar character ; it is lighter than the 
Florentine, and shows itself, according to Mr. Eose's definition, " in practical jokes 



554 VENICE. 

brought to bear intellectually," or, in other words, acted repartees.* The Neapolitan 
humour, again, is more broad and coarse, and more closely allied to mere farce and 
ribaldry. The Venetians are naturally grave and sober. Some of their characteristics 
may be traced to their ancient intercourse with the Ottomans. As to their diet, lice 
is an article to which scarcely less importance is attached by all classes in Yenice than 
in Constantinople, whence they appear to have borrowed their mode of cooking it. 
The custom of presenting coifee at visits is also Turkish. Their cafes are more 
oriental than Italian ; and in their distaste for the extravagance of dancing, and their 
love of repose, they seem to resemble the more saturnine Ottomans. 

Of the old Venetian character, however, the traces are, generally speaking, nearly 
worn out. " The most remarkable, as contrasted with the rest of Italy," says Mr. Rose, 
"certainly is so. The probity of Pantaloon was proverbial, and the honour and 
punctuality of a Venetian merchant were recognised throughout the various provinces 
of Italy. That it is not now the ease, I attribute to the Austrians. Public honestj^ is 
scarcely compatible with their law. In the scale of honesty the highest rank, we are 
told, must now be given to the Jews, the second to the Venetians, and the lowest to the 
German settlers, who are among the principal money-agents of the city. Every office, 
indeed, from the clerk and corporal to the judge and general, is now filled with Germans, 
all unacquainted alike with the habits and language of the country. Nothing can be 
more execrable throughout than the fiscal and judicial administration of the Austritin 
government, and no one who visits Italy can be at a loss to account for the preference 
given by the Italians to their French masters over ' the Chinese of Europe.' " 

• Moliere's best buffoonery, Mr. Rose asserts, is borrowed ft'om the Venetian drama. 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

LOMBAEDY VEEONA — PADUA — MANIUA — CREAIOXA. 

A GEEAT variety of tribes formed the most ancient people that inhabited the country 
from the sides of the Alps to the banks of the Po ; and their descendants possessed that 
part of Italy until the fall of the Roman empire in the west, about the end of the fifth 
century, when the Heruli, under the conduct of Odoacer, quitted the banks of the Danube, 
settled on those of the Po, and made Ravenna the capital of their country. Six years 
after their conquest they were subdued by the Ostrogoths, whose power was shaken by 
the energy of Belisarius, and overthrown by the eunuch Narses in the year 553. 

Italy, restored to the emperors of the East, was not long secure against foreign inva- 
sions. The Longobardi quitted the forests of Germany, and founded, in 567, a powerful 
kingdom in the great valley of the Po, which, in the course of time, was styled Lom- 
bardy. But the bishops of Rome, anticipating their power, observed, not without fear 
and jealousy, the aggrandisement that threatened to destroy or possess the ancient capital 
of the world. 

Stephen II. implored the assistance of France ; Pepin took from the Longobardi the 
exarchate of Ravenna, and made the Pope sovereign over it. The kingdom was after- 
wards destroyed by Charlemagne, who confined Didier, their last king, in a convent. 
Although Lombardy continued without a sovereign, its laws were retained, and the 
country was divided into several principalities, subject to the western empire. But the 
spirit of independence was diifused over that part of Italy ; and the emperors of Germany 
granted to some towns the right of choosing their magistrates. A custom that the cities 
had preserved — the right of electing their bishops — led men to conclude that all power 
emanated from the people. 

The inhabitants of large towns now proceeded to demand charters and more important 
privileges. All the cities of Lombardy, during the twelfth century, not only elected 
their magistrates, but deliberated on their local interests, and on the advantages of making 
peace and declaring war. Frederick Barbarossa was the first emperor who, violating 
the charters and treaties of his predecessors, attempted to establish absolute power in 
Italy. Milan was the most important town in Lombardy ; and being besieged by that 
prince, the inhabitants, reduced to a small number by famine, consented at last to capitu- 
late, but on conditions which the conqueror disdained. A few days afterwards Milan 
was changed into a heap of ruins. If the emperor protected the rivals of that large city, 
he destroj'ed their freedom, and the magistrates elected by the citizens were succeeded 
by the podedas that Frederick appointed. The peace which succeeded the noise and 
tumult of war was, however, only like the calm before the earthquake ; for the people, 
unaccustomed to oppression, bore it reluctantly, and formed a secret league to restore 
their privileges. 

The towns formed for that purpose a confederation ; while Frederick, emboldened by 
success, marched against Rome, designing to humble the pope, and to unite his possessions 



LOMBAKDY. 



to the empire. But thi E,:in ans made a courageous raii&taice, while the plague cut off 
great numbers of lhe imperial army. The emperor made a new attempt against Lom- 
bardy, but, denounced and excommu licated, hi became the object of hatred and contempt. 
The confederate towns gave him buttle, his troops were routed and cut to pieces, and 
Frederick himself saved his life by means of a disguise, and at last acknowledged the 
independence of the Lombardy republics. 

It is a lamentable result of political revolutions, when the inhabitants of the same 
nation, and even the citizens of the same town, are changed into irreconcilable enemies- 
Yet so it was here. While Barbarossa was prosperous and victorious, he was surrounded 
by ambitious flatterers, ever ready to pay their court to the powerful. After his death, 
however, the same persons adhered to his successor, and, as in the former struggle the 
court of Rome had principally contributed to the success of the people against the empire, 
Lombardy was then divided into two dominant factions. The. partisans of the pope took 
the name of Giiel^jihs, from an illustrious Bavarian family, allied by marriage with the 
house of Este. Those of the emperor were called Gldbclines, from a village in Franconia, 
the birth-place of Conrad the Salic, from whom the family of Suabia were descended. 
In their contests, both parties were, at different times, victorious, but the Gfuelphs more 
frequently than the Ghibelines. 

Thus a party spirit was kindled, which spread and continued during the whole period 
that the emperors of Germany, of the house of Hohenstauffen, exercised even the shadow 
of sovereignty. In those cities where the Guelphs had the government, they were 
constantly opposed by a large minority, and the same state of things appeared where 
the other factions had the upper hand. Noble and other families were engaged in long 
feuds with each other, which endured through successive generations, constantly occasion- 
ing public murders or private assassinations. The historj^ of these cities is filled with 
narratives that exhibit human nature in some of its most revolting forms. 

A single, though far from a solitary instance of the prevalent state, may suiEce 
now to Illustrate it. A noble Guelph, named Buondelmonte, of the upper vale of the 
Arno, had demanded the hand of a young lady of the Ghibeline house of Amidei ; and 
his proposals having been accepted, preparations were made for the marriage. But a 
lady of another family, the Donati, stopped the lover as he passed her door ; and bringing 
him Into the apartment where her females were at work, raised the veil of her daughter, 
whose beauty was most captivating. " Here," said she, " is the wife I had reserved for 
thee. Like thee, she is a Guelph ; whilst thou takest one from the enemies of thy 
church and race." 

Buondelmonte, dazzled and enamoured, instantly accepted the proffered hand. The 
Amidei considered this Inconstancy as a deep affront ; and all the noble families of 
Florence, of the Ghibeline faction, about twenty-four, met, and agreed that he should 
atone with his life for the offence. Buondelmonte was attacked on the morning of 
Easter Sunday, as he was passing the bridge on horseback, and was killed on the spot. 
Forty-two families of the Guelphic faction then assembled, and swore to avenge the 
insult ; thus blood was shed to atone for blood. Every day some open battle or fresh 
murder alarmed the citizens of Florence, during the space of thirty-three years. These 
two factions stood determinately opposed to each other within the walls of the same 
city ; and though thej^ were sometimes reconciled in appearance, yet every trivial 
accident rekindled their animosity, and gave rise to deadly warfare. It was towards the 
close of the reign of the family of Hohenstauffen that this ferocious state of society began 
to subside, and various improvements arose. 

The north of Italy, with which we have more particularly to do, is copiousfy supplied 
with streams of water from those capacious- reservoirs which are found at the foot of the. 
mountain ranges of the Alps. Those lakes are composed of water, partly arising from 



ITS IIIVKKS AKD I'LAIKS. 00 1 

springs, but chieflj'^ from the melted snow and ice of the lofty summits around them. 
These lakes are never frozen in the winter, but run in continual streams, and thus serve 
the constant purpose of irrigation as well as of internal navigation, till they disappear in 
rivers which proceed to the sea. 

The Po, the greatest of the rivers of Lombardy, has a course of nearly two hundred 
miles ; and though languid in its current, is so filled, generally in the spring, as to cause 
inundations on both its banks. In its progress it receives the waters of the Ticino, 
which rises near Mount St. Grothard, and joins the Po near Pavia. The other streams 
which contribute to this great river are, the Olona, the Lambro, the Adda, the Oglio, 
and the Mincio. 

The far greater part of Lombardy is a level plain, bounded on the north by the 
Rhajtian Alps, and on the south by the river Po, into which most of the numerous rivers 
and rivulets empty themselves. The whole valley declines towards the south, but so 
gently, that the fall of water on that river, from its source to its mouth, is not more than 
a hundred and ninety feet ; and the smaller streams are equally languid. The soil is 




SCHLANDERS IN THE TYROL. 



generally light, but fertile, on a basis of calcareous subsoil, except that at the foot of the 
mountains there are some portions of sandy heaths, and on the coast, where the great 
rivers discharge their waters, the land is marshy, and formed into extensive lagoons. 
In the mountainous northern border the land is frequently stony; but even there 
the soil that covers the vallej's is a vegetable mould, of a greater or less degree of 
fertilitj^ 

The rural parts of Lombardy exhibit but few houses, except those of the mere 
peasantry. The owners of oven the smaller proportions, though they may in some 
manner be viewed in the light of cultivators, yet, placing their estates in other hands, 
they seldom find it necessarjr to reside on or near them, and are satisfied with visiting 
them at the seasons when the produce is to be divided. When the estates are small or 
of moderate extent, or when they are large and comprehend several farms, the super- 
intendence is intrusted to their agents. Such agents also, in some instances, have the 
disposal of the share of the produce, and account for the proceeds to the proprietors of 
the soil. The great body of the population who are in circumstances of even moderate 
ease are thus collected in the large towns and cities. 
■ At one of these we have now arrived, and in doing so are reminded of a description 



"558 LOMHAUDY. 

given of it in the ancient poem of " Romeus and Juliet," which, is regardes the basis uf 
Shalvspeare's celebrated tragcd}' : — 

" There is beyond the Alps a towne of ancient fame, 
"Where bright renoune yet shineth cleare, Verona men it name ; 
Bylt in a hapjiy time, bylt in a fertyle soyle, 
Maynteined by the heavenly fates, and by the boorish toyle. 
The fruitofuU hilles above, the pleasant vales belowe, 
'J he silver streame with chanel depe, that thraoigh the town doth flow; 
The store of springes that serve for use, and eke for ease, 
And other nice commodities, which profit may and please ; 
Eke many ccrtayne signes of things betyde of olde. 
To fyll the houngry eyes of those that curiously behold ; 
Doe make this towne to be preferde above the rest 
Of Lombard towncs, or at the least, compared with the best." 

A distant view of Verona, the second city of Eastern Lombardjr in population and 
importance, with its serrated Avails and lofty towers, is peculiar and inviting. It is very 
finely situated at the foot of the Alps, on both banks of the Adige. On the north, it is 
commanded by a range of hills in fine cultivation ; and its ancient walls and towers, 
Avhich enclose a vast area, have a noble appearance, sweeping across a hill surmounted by 
the Gothic turrets of the castle. The modern fortifications were esteemed very strong, 
till destroyed by the French, after the ineffectual rising of the inhabitants against that 
government in 1797. The modern city is nearly six miles in circuit, and contains a 
population of about 60,000 souls. 

There are no certain details of the origin of Verona. It is evident, however, that under 
the Romans she became a flourishing city ; and, in the time of Strabo, was superior to 
Brixia, Mantua, and other cities. She was the capital of the kingdom of Italy from the 
time of Odoacer to that of Berengarius ; and, from the twelfth to the fifteenth century, 
she was the capital of a considerable territory, governed by the Scaligers, Visconti, and 
others conspicuous in history. Under the former occurred the feuds between the 
Montagues and the Capulets, which Shakspeare has immortalised. In 1405 Verona 
submitted to Venice, of whose dominions it continued to form an important portion till 
the overthrow of the Venetian republic in 1797. Verona is the capital of a delegation 
containing less than 280,000 inhabitants, which is about 4,090 to every square German 
mile — a much smaller population, in relation to its area, than any of the adjacent 
provinces. This city has acquired in recent times a political notoriety, as the seat of 
the high congress which was held there in 1822 for the purpose of completing the 
adjustment of the affairs of Europe. 

There is, perhaps, no other city in Northern Italy which, upon the whole, unites so 
much that is interesting in its situation, its antiquities, and the recollections associated 
with it, as Verona. The birthplace of Catullus, of Vitruvius, of Cornelius Nepos, of 
Pliny the naturalist, of Paul Veronese, of Scaliger, of Maflfei, of Pindemonte, and other 
illustrious men of ancient and modern days, it possesses a strong historic interest ; while 
our own Shakspeare has peopled it with imaginary beings, not less palpably defined to 
the fancy than the shades of the historic dead. It is thus felt, at least by an Englishman, 
to be at once classic and romantic ground ; nor does the tomb of Pepin, nor even the arch 
of Gallienus, waken a stronger interest than the supposed tomb of Juliet. Evelyn was 
highly delighted with Verona ; and, in his opinion, the city deserved all the eulogies with 
which Scaliger has honoured it, " The situation," he says, " is the most delightful I evef 
saw ; it is so sweetly mixed with rising ground and valleysj so elegantly plumed with 
trees, on which Bacchus seems riding as it were in triumph every autumn ; for the vines 
reach from tree to tree; Here, of all places I have seen in Italy, would I fix a residence.*' 
"Well has that learned man given it the name of the very eye of the world. 



^■£KONA. 559 

" You enter it," says Mr. Rose, " by a magnificent approach, and a street probably the 
widest in Europe. This street is indeed short, and single in its breadth ; but the city in 
general pleases by its picturesque appearance, to which an abundance of marble quarries 
has not a little contributed." Verona, it is said, can boast of no less than seventy-two 
kinds of marble ; and from this circumstance the Romans called her Marmorca. The 
friezes and ornaments of the palaces here, and sometimes the walls, are made of a stone 
apparently identical with that Istrian marble so much usqd in Venice, and sent from 
Dalmatia to most of the provinces." 

The chief glory of Verona, in the eyes of the antiquary, is its amphitheatre, which 
Eustace characterises as one of the noblest monuments of Roman magnificence now existing. 
Bishop Burnet, on the contrary, styles it one of the smallest of all the Romans built, but 
the best preserved. Neither representation is accurate. Although it does not approach, 
in its dimensions, to the grandeur of the Colosseum, it is larger than either the amphi- 
theatre of Nismes, or that of Pola, and of course greatly exceeds the size of those of 
Passtum and Pompeii. As compared with that of Nismes, it is less interesting from the 
greater dilapidations of the outside, combined with the nearly entire state of the interior, 
which conceals from view the intricacies of its construction. Only four arches now 
remain of the seventy-two which originally composed the exterior circuit. The outer 
wall was built of large blocks of red marble. Its pilasters are of the Tuscan order ; but 
the bad taste of the little ornament that remains, would seem to indicate that the work- 
manship was not worthy of the magnificence of the design or the richness of the 
materials. The marble coating having nearly all disappeared, an internal one, built 
mostly of brick, is exposed to view, pierced, in modern times, with numerous doors and 
windows, for the convenience of the poor families who have their shops and tenements in 
the interior. As the whole fabric is roofless, and decayed stone arches form the only 
covering, the rain penetrates into these wretched hovels, from the windows of which 
ragged garments may be often seen hanging out to dry. 

" Such is the meanness of the details," remarks Mr. Simond, " that this antique edifice 
is great without greatness. Our guide introduced us through an old clothes shop into 
the interior, and bade us observe the narrow outlets through which gladiators and slaves 
entered the arena, and the wider ones for the beasts they were to encounter ; other doors 
served to carry away the dead game. Sixty vomitories gave entrance, as strangers are 
told, to sixty thousand spectators, who were accommodated on the forty-five circular rows 
of seats ; but it does not appear that half that number could sit. From the upper rows 
of seats, the arena, an oval space of two hundred and eighteen feet by one hundred and 
twenty-nine, appeared very small ; but a modern theatre, which, in barbarous times, was 
built in the arena, and at this day disfigures it, serves at least as a scale by which to 
judge better of its size. The stone seats of the theatre are modern, having been renewed 
since the middle of the sixteenth century, but are supplied only as high as forty-three 
tiers, the upper story all round the building being gone, with the exception of the frag- 
ment of the outer wall already mentioned. The seats continue nearly in one slope from 
top to bottom, without any appearance of their having been divided by precindiom or 
ambulatories." 

ISTo record has been preserved of the time when this amphitheatre was built ; but the 
learned Marquis Maffei conjectures that it was erected after the Colosseum, in the reign 
of either Dominitian or Nerva, or in the early part of that of Trajan ; that is, between 
A.D. 81 and 117. In the thirteenth century it was used as a place of judicial combats. 
As early as the begiuning of that century, its preservation had become an object of 
public attention. In 1475, penalties were decreed against any one who should remove 
any of the stones. In 15i5, a special officer was appointed to take care of it. In 1568^ 
ft voluntary contribution was raised for its restoration ; and in 1579, a tax was imposed 



L0M13ABDY. 



for tlae same purpose. Other decrees in its favour have been since made, but, as regards 
the exterior, too late, or with small effect. Addison, in 1700, speaks of the high wall 
and corridors as almost entirely ruined ; the seats, with a few modern reparations, were 
all entire, but the arena was then quite filled up to the lower seat. 

At each end of the amphitheatre is a gate, surrounded with a modern balustrade, on 
which is an inscription, recording two exhibitions of a somewhat different description 
which took place here in recent daj^s. The one was a bull-fight given in honour of the 
Emperor Joseph, on his visiting Yerona, when, as Eustace says, " a Pi,oman emperor was 
once inore hailed in a Roman amphitheatre with the titles of Cscsar and Augustus, by 
spectators who pretend, and almost deserve to be, Romans;" — almost, for a bull-fight is 
not quite so barbarous as a combat of gladiators. The other was an ecclesiastical show; 
the pope, in his German excursion, passed through this city, and, at tlie request of the 
magistrates, exhibited himself to the prostrate multitude, collected from all the neigh- 
bouring provinces to receive his benediction. " The French," exclaims the zealous anti- 
Gallican, " applied the amphitheatre to a verj^ different purpose ;" and to them he 




AMrHrrUEATRE OF VER0N.4 



ascribes the erection of the wooden theatre, in which, to the indignation of the Veronese, 
these modern Huns, or Lombards, caused farces and pantomimes to be acted for the 
amusement of the army. The French were not the masters of Verona, however, in 
1820, when Mr. Pennington was present at a dramatic performance in this same wooden 
theatre, where, he tells us, plays are acted every evening. What is worse, Mr. Woods 
saw there, in 1816, an exhibition of horsemanship, of dancing on the tight-rope, and of 
dancing dogs ! iUas for the dcgeueracj'- of the modern Romans of Verona ! 

On the open space before the amphitheatre stand two magnificent edifices ; one of them, 
if not both, Mr. Simond says, designed by Michael Angelo, but left unfinished, probably, 
because they were undertaken upon too large a scale. " Time has already worn off the 
angles, and obscured the- tints of these fabrics sufficiently to make them harmonise with 
the amphitheatre. Thus, antiquity and modern times seem to have been brought face to 
face for the purpose of confronting their powers ; boldness and grace on one side, massy 
strength and immensity on the other. These three edifices do not stand symmetrically 
to each other ; but this circumstance rather adds to the general effect." 



VEROXA. 561 

The other Roman antiquities are not of particular interest. In the Cono is an ancieiat 
double gateway, called the Arch of Gallienus, on the strength of an inscription which, 
shows that this part of the wall was built by order of that emperor ; but the Veronese 
antiquaries maintain that the style of the architecture is too good for that period, and 
that there are traces of a more ancient inscription which has been erased to make room 
for the one which now exists. Each arch has its own pediment, over which are two stories 
of building, with windows and pilasters, whimsically disposed, without any corres- 
pondence to the gateways below. The Arch of Flavins, or the Fovo Guidiziale, as it is 
A^ariously termed, is in a somewhat better style. Only a fragment of the building, 
however, remains ; and this has been converted into a private dwelling. One large arch, 
with an inscription, and some small, broken, twisted columns above it, are all that 
remain in front ; but there is a Doric frieze in the interior, Avhich is in a very chaste 
style, and has been imitated by Palladio in the ornaments of the arcades near the modern 
theatre. A dilapidated relic of a triumphal, oi perhaps sepidchial aich, neai the old 




\ VLLEl 01 lUL \DIG1, NLiU LOLZLN 

castle, is called the Arch of Gavins ; and there are some other fragments of the same sort, 
but so imperfect as scarcely to claim the attention of the stranger. 

Addison mentions as the principal ruin of Verona, next to the amphitheatre, the ruin 
of a triumphal arch erected to Flaminius, where one sees old Doric pillars without any 
pedestal or basis, as Vitruvius has described them. Evelyn refers them to the same 
remains. After giving the inscription, 

L. V. Flaminia Co>-sl'l. Ano Ueb. Con. IJIL, • ; ,' 



he adds : " This I esteem to be one of the noblest antiquities in Europe, it is so vast and 
entire, having escaped the ruins of so many other public briildings for above 1400 years. ' 
There are other arches — as that of the Victory. of Marius — temples, aqueducts, &c., 
showing still considerable remains in several places of the town, and how magnificent it 
has formerly been." 'a 3'^ 

2 



562 ■ ITAIA'. 

One of the four bridges wMcli bestride the Adige still sbows two Roman arobes of tbe 
pure age of Roman architecture ; and there are remains of another, called Ponte Emilio. 
Mr. Pennington mentions also a Naumachia, Avhich was filled from the river ; and the 
" walls of an ancient Roman theatre, one of the largest in Italy, which extended up the 
hill as far as the castle of S. Pietro, the venerable tower of which alone remains." The 
Ponte del Castel Vecchio, built in 1354, is remarkable for a large arch, forming a portion 
of a circle whose chord is 161 feet. It appears firm, but is shut up, for fear of accident. 
It is a bridge of three arches. The principal one is 142 Veronese feet (about 157 
Eaglish) in span. It is narrow, and was connected with the old fortifications communi- 
cating with the castle. 

The ecclesiastical architecture of Verona presents some highly interesting monuments 
of the middle ages. The Diioiiw, or cathedral, is an edifice of the twelfth century. A 
council was held in it in 1185, and it was consecrated by Pope Urban in 1187. Four 
columns supporting two arches, one above the other, and the lower columns themselves 
resting on grifiins, form the porch ; and on the sides of the doors are some curious bas- 
reliefs, representing Orlando and Oliviere clad in armour, such as, according to Livy, 
was worn by the ancient Samnites. The interior consists of a nave with side aisles. 
The piers, which are very slender, are clustered with fillets down the middle of the 
shafts. Adjoining to the cloister is a fragment of what is said to have been a church, 
previously to the erection of the present cathedral : it is merely a rectangular room, with 
a groined vault supported on columns. The cathedral itself contains nothing remarkable 
except the sepulchre of Pope Lucius III., who, when driven from Rome, obtained an 
asylum at Verona. 

In architectural beautj^, the cathedral is very inferior to the church of Santa Anastasia, 
built at the beginning of the thirteenth century by the Dominicans : if the front were 
finished, this would be, Mr. "Wood thinks, the most perfect specimen in existence of the 
style of architecture to which it belongs. The front was to have been enriched with 
bas-reliefs, but this work has been only begun. The inside consists of a nave of six 
arches, with side-aisles. The transept is scarcely wider than one division of the vault, 
and consequently does not strikuigly interrupt the series of arches ; and beyond this is a 
choir, consisting onljr of one bay, without aisles, and a semicircular recess. The transept 
is short, and in the angle between that and the choir is a square tower, terminating in 
an octagonal spire. All the arches and vaultings are obtusely pointed. The springing 
of the middle -sault hardly exceeds the points of the arches into the aisles; and the 
windows of the clerestory are circular and very small. The width from centre to centre 
of each j)ier, measured along the church, is seven-eighths of the width of the nave. This 
imusual circumstance, in connexion with the little windows of the clerestory, and the 
want of height above the side arches, impresses upon the structure a character totally 
different from anythiag we have ; but it forms a very fine composition, and one which 
makes the building appear larger than it is, though it is by no means a small church, 
being about 75 feet wide, and 300 feet long. The Duomo was formerly adorned with 
many fine paintings, but several of them have been removed. The celebrated picture by 
Titian of the Assumption was restored to this edifice, after a residence for some time, with 
many others, in Paris. 

To the antiquary, the most interesting specimen of the architecture of the middle ages 
is the church of Saint Zeno. It is a most curious edifice, both externally and internally. 
Tradition assigns the erection of it to Pepin, father of Charlemagne ; but, if he began it, 
he did not terminate it ; for we find that in" the tenth century, an emperor (perhaps 
Otho II.), on leaving Verona, left a sum of money for its comjoletion. In 1045, the 
Abbot Alberigo began the tower, which was finished in 1178; and meanwhile (in 
1138), the church itself was restored and adorned. The front may be cited as a good 



VERONA. 563 

example of the early architectiu-e of this part of Italy. The general idea is that of a 
lofty gable, with a lean-to on each side, which being the natural result of the construction, 
is, if well proportioned, a pleasing form. The entrance is flanked on each side by a 
column resting on the back of a lion ; and these columns support an arch which springs 
some feet above the top of the capitals. There are sculptures on each side, as there are 
in the cathedral, but these are principally taken from Bible histories. Six of those on 
the left hand represent the creation and the fall of man. On the two lower, a chase is 
sculptured. The feet of the hunter are placed in stirrups ; and this, according to Maffei, 
is the most ancient piece of sculpture in which they are exhibited. Some lines imderneath 
designate him as Theodoric, and, according to the vulgar notion, the infernal spirits 
furnished him with dogs and horses. On the other side are eight bas-reliefs from the 
New Testament ; and over the doorway there are others, which seem to relate to St. 
Zeno. Besides these, the twelve months of the year are represented, beginning with 
March. All the figures are rudely sculptured ; but the arabesques which enrich the 
divisions of the different compartments are beautifully designed, and not ill executed. 
The merit of the design is probably to be attributed to the artist having copied from 
some ancient specimens. The doors also are covered with scripture histories in bronze in 
forty-eight panels, curious as specimens of art, but not pretending to any beauty. 
Immediately above the arch of the porch is a hand with the fore and middle fingers 
extended, and the two others bent in the act of the Latin benediction. It is said that in 
the early ages, before the artists thought of representing the Almighty as an old man 
supported on cherubim, the Deity was always indicated in this way. Above the porch 
is a wheel window, which interrupts the lines of the rest of the architecture ; but, from 
the simjDlicity of its ornaments, it is believed to be part of the original structure. It is a 
wheel of Fortune, with ascending and descending figures. Maffei gives the inscription : — 

" En ego foi-tuna moderor mortalibus una : 
Elevo, depono ; bona amctis vel mala dono." 

This is on the external circumference : within is — 

" Iiiduo nudatos i denude veste paratos 
111 me confidit si quis derisus abibit." 

The whole facade, when free from other decorations, has slender upright ribs. In the 
middle these are divided into several stories ; those on the sides continue from near the 
ground to the slo]3e of the roof. 

On entering the building, we descend by a flight of ten steps into the nave, to ascend 
again to the choir, or rather presbytery ; for there is no transept to divide it from the- 
nave, and the proper choir is merely a deep, vaulted recess at the end of the building. 
The nave is high, with low side-aisles, the arches of which are semicircular. They are 
in pairs, being supported alternately on columns and piers, from the latter of which ribs 
ascend to support the roof of the nave ; in other respects the roof is of Avood, as it 
probably always was, for the arrangement is not calculated to support any vaulting. 
The recess forming the choir is vaulted with a pointed arch. Under the elevated part 
of the building is a subterraneous church ; and it has been supposed, that the pavement 
had been elevated after the building was completed, in order to form this crypt. On 
descending into it, however, this opinion is very much shaken. Lilte the old church 
by the cathedral, it is covered with semicircular groined arches, resting on columns 
disposed at equal distances from each other. 

At one of the altars in the church, you are called upon to admire a group of foiu' 
■^6olumns of red marble, with their bases and capitals, all formed out of a single stone ; 

2 o 2 



and in a little chamber, near the entrance, is a great vase of porphyry, also from a 
single stone, the external diameter of which is thirteen feet four inches, the internal, 
eight feet eight inches ; and the pedestal is formed out of another block of the same 
material. This stood originally on the outside of the church, and Maffei supposes it to 
have been intended for washing the feet of pilgrims before entering the sacred edifice. 
If so, it would scarcely have been elevated on a pedestal. 

The cloisters of St. Zeno consist of arches supported on little coupled columns of 
red marble, united bj^ a little appendage of the same substance, at the necking of the 
column, and at the upper torus of the base. On one side is a projecting edifice, sustained 
by columns of different sizes, which formerly contained a large basin for the monks to 
wash themselves in before entering the refectory ; but it is now in ruins. Adjoining the 
cloisters, we find here also an old church, built in the same manner as the one which 
stands close by the cathedral, with groined semicircular arches supported on four pillars, 
all unlike, dividing it into nine equal squares. It is possible that this may have been 
the original edifice of Pepin ; but the want of a transept in a woik of this size, and other 
particulars of the architecture, lead to the conclusion that the larger church was erected 
before the year 1000, while the front is doubtless of the twelfth century. The tower is 
panelled on the lower stories, and each panel is surmounted with rows of little 
ornamental arches ; but the two upper stories have each a triple semicircular headed 
opening on each face. Above these is a cornice with intersecting ornamental arches. 
The lower part is probably of the time of the Abbot Alberigi, that is, 1045 ; the second 
may be of 1178, or of some period between the two ; but there is nothing very decisive 
in windows of this sort, which are certainly sometimes used much earlier, and continued 
in use as Ioav as the thirteenth, and perhaps even in the fourteenth century. The 
upright styles of the panelling are continued, to form a turret at each angle, which is 
surmounted with a pinnacle, and the work is crowned with a square spire. 

In a little court close by this church is a vault, honoured with the name of the Tomb of 
Pepin, and in it is an empty sarcophagus ; the body, as it is said, having been carried to 
Paris. Pepin, however, died at St. Denis, and there is no probability that his bones 
were ever here. The sarcophagus is singular in having three strong ribs on one side 
of the lid, and none on the other. 

'Near the church of St. Zeno are a tower and small portions of wall, said to be the 
remains of the bisliop's palace, in which the German emperors several times resided 
during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. 

The church of St. Fermo, though it cannot boast of so high antiquity, is another 
interesting specimen of the architecture of the middle ages, having been built in 1313. 
It is of brick, with a great deal of ornament, and the rows of little arches are many of 
them trefoil-headed. The door of the fa9ade is round-headed, with a profusion of 
ornamental mouldings. Instead of a rose window, it has in front four lancet windows, 
with trefoil heads ; over which is a smaller window, divided into three parts by little 
shafts, with a small circular opening on each side. There is no tracery. The building 
ends in a gable, the cornice of which is loaded with ornament, and three pinnacles rise 
above it. Internally, the ceiling is of wood, and not handsome. This church, from its 
size, has the epithet of Maggiore. 

The church of St. Giorgio claims attention, as containing a fine picture of the martyrdom 
of the saint by Paul Veronese. The church is not noticed by Mr. Wood, to whom Ave 
are indebted for many particulars, nor described by any other traveller ; it might, there- 
fore, be inferred that it has nothing else to recommend it. Ye.t Addison calls it the 
handsomest in Verona. The cupola is ascribed to Sanmichelf. 

In the church of St. Bernardino there is a beautiful little circular chapel of the 
Pellegrini family, with a cupola, from the designs of tliis great architect. The interior 



A-ERONA. 560 

is of polished white marble, of the species called hronzino, on account of the sound 
it gives on being struck, and is richly ornamented in bas-relief. The chapel is too high, 
Mr. Wood remarks, in proportion to its size ; it has spirally fluted columns ; and other 
defects might be detected in the details, for which the original architect is probably most 
responsible. Sanmicheli is said, indeed, to have been very much dissatisfied with the 
execution. Such as it is, however, every body admires it ; it speaks to our feelings 
rather than to our judgment — a language of which it is very difficult to be master. The 
arabesques with which the pilasters are adorned are very elegant. 

The tombs of the Scaligers, — once sovereign lords of Verona, — which stand in a small 
enclosure in one of the public streets, form a highly picturesque object. They are six in 
number, each bearing the scaling ladder (scala) and eagle, the remarkable device of the 
family. Three only, however, are striking for their Gothic architecture. That of Can 
Grrande (the second doge of the race) is not a very sumptuous monument. Two square 
pilasters against the wall of a church, with foliage on the capitals, support a platform, 
over which is a Gothic canopy with trefoil heads, but with little other ornament ; and 
above the canopy is a pyramid crowned with an equestrian figure — probably Can Grande 
himself, who is also seen reclining below under the canopy. The second tomb, containing 
the remains of Mastino II. (the Mastiff"), is entirely detached, with precisely the same 
arrangement, but with more ornament and more graceful proportion. The third, that of 
Can Signorio, is still more highly ornamented, but the disposition is the same, except 
that it forms a hexagonjon the plan. The pyramid is disagreeably truncated in all, in 
order to admit the equestrian statue on the summit. " The desire of the Italian artists 
to iatroduce something resembling the columns and entablatures of the Roman archi- 
tecture, renders these monuments much inferior to our own Gothic crosses." Such is the 
criticism of Mr. Wood. ]\Ir. Forsyth, who viewed them, perhaps, more with the ej^e of 
poetic taste, describes these tombs as models of the most elegant Gothic — light, open, 
spiry, full of statues caged in their fretted niches. " Yet, slender as they seem," he 
adds, " these tombs have stood entire for five hundred years in a public street, the frequent 
theatre of sedition, 

• ^Vhicll made Verona's ancient citizens 
Cast by their grave, beseeming ornaments, 
To wield old partisans in hands as old.' " 

The description of these tombs, and still more these well-known lines, will recall to the 
reader the monuments of the Capu^ets. One has excited no little interest. To adopt the 
words of a modern writer : " Theife is a coffin preserved near this city, which you wander 
forth to see. In an old out-house near a garden, once the cemetery of a convent, amid 
reeds, straw, the wine-vessel, the basket, and the gardener's tools, you are shown a rude 
sarcophagus of common marble ; you see the raised part which pillowed the corpse's 
head, and the sockets which burned the holy candles to scare foTil fiends. In this 
narrow bed of stone, there once lay a sweet sufferer, — living, loving, fearless, and 
confiding, — a girl who dared this gloomy passage to the bridal bed of her first fond 
choice. She lived and died here in Yerona. She lives for us in Shakspeare's page. It is 
Juliet's tomb." So the traveller is told ; and who would divorce this ' scene ' from this 
'impression?' The old woman who has the care of it tells the tale of Juliet's death, 
as it is related in the Italian novel from which Shakspeare drew the materials of his 
matchless drama. Every English visitor, she saj^s, carries away a bit of the marble ; a 
circumstance she greatly deplores, and her telling it serves to perpetuate the custom. 
How much does many a spot, and many an object, owe to the tale which has been 
associated with it ! Numbers of persons have visited this garden entirely from the fame 
of Shakspeare's heroine. Apart from this, the tomb would certainly be mistaken for a 



566 ITALY. 

common water-trough, for it is formed of the coarsest red marble, and has no ornament 
whatever. 

" Sanmicheli," says Mr. Forsyth, "has rivalled Palladio in some of the palaces of 
Verona. He has caught the true character of a fortified gate, and given to the Porta 
Stupa (Stoppia ?) an air of gloomy strength and severity." Mr. Wood speaks of this 
gate, under the name of the Porta del Palio, as the most beautiful piece of architecture 
by this artist. It presents internally a range of arches between double Doric columns ; 
but was left unfinished at his death, nor has it ever been completed. The Porta Nuova, 
also by Sanmicheli, is a fine building, though not so good ; nor do any of his palaces, in 
this writer's opinion, equal the Porta del Palio in grace and purity of design. The forti- 
fications present a specimen of his military architecture. The works executed prior to 
his time have round towers instead of bastions : the last of the ancient style are the 
bastion and gate of St. Greorge, built in 1523-5. The bastion of the Magdalen was the. 
first erected by Sanmicheli, in 1527, and has more the character of a tower than those 
which he subsequently erected. Among the other public buildings which claim notice, 
may be mentioned the 8ala di Consiglio, or town hall, which is adorned externally with 
busts of the most celebrated natives of the city, and contains some fine pictures rescued 
from the convents ; the 8ala di Commercio ; the Academia Philharnionica, foimded by the 
celebrated Marquis Mafiei ; and the Philoli, both containing an extensive collection of 
ancient monimients, bas-reliefs, broken statues, and inscribed marbles. The fine Ionic 
portico of the theatre forms, with the arcades of the Museum, thi:;pe sides of a handsome 
square. A noble palace has been erected recently for the imperial viceroy. The Palazzo 
Belvilacqua in the Corso, is a stately structure, and one of the oldest in Yerona, but is fast 
falling to decay : it is by Sanmicheli. Opposite to it is the Palazzo Cannosia, which is 
admired for its facade, and for the prospect it commands. Verona contains several private 
collections of paintings and antiquities ; and Count Gazzola had here a fine collection of 
fossils. There are also a Ij^ceum, a public library, several hospitals, and other sights and 
curiosities, for a fuU description of which the traveller must be referred to the Compeiidio. 
delta Verona. 

From the high tower over the gaol an extensive prospect is obtained, together with a 
curious bird's-eye view over the city, its dingy roofs and narrow streets, its jDalaces and 
antiquities. " Yet the gaol itself," saj^s Mr. Simond, " over which we stood, occupied 
most of our thoughts, when we heard that one thousand miserable beings were at that 
moment confined within its walls, six of whom were to be hanged the day after ; and 
many were under sentence to hard labour in irons for a number of years." Famine and 
politics, it seems, had much increased the aA^erage number of prisoners. 

The wines of Yerona were celebrated in ancient times (as appears from Virgil's 
apostrophe to the produce of the Ehajtic grape), but their reputation at present is very 
low, as is that of almost all the wines produced on the northern side of the Apennines. 
The other chief productions are silk and oil. 

The Monte Bolca petrified fishes are among the few articles which the traveller will 
find peculiar to Yerona. He may obtain them of the custode of the amphitheatre, 
but he must not look for genuine fossils to be cheap. If, however, economy be an 
object, he will find imitations, extremely good in themselves, fabricated from the real 
schistus. 

The neighbourhood of Yerona is the richest part of Lombardy, covered with corn, 
vines, and mulberries. Even on the verge of winter, the characteristics of the country 
are manifest. The rose still blooms, and the traveller is accosted by persons with waiters 
laden with apples, pears, and grapes. The people are out of doors, some spinning by the 
road-side, and others engaged in various offices which we usually reserve for the interior 
of our dwellings. The popidation appear healthy and well fed. Chubby and rosy 



VEB£)NA. 567 

children, with bright curling hair in profusion, attract the- eye, and excite agreeable 
emotions. The women are tall and well grown. But here we see, as we do in so many 
parts of the continent, that their labours are incessant. To be " rocked in the cradle of 
reposing age " seems to them unknown. When the charms of womanhood have long 
disappeared, they may stiU be seen leading cows or driving asses. 

Doubtless much of their ability to labour, as well as the health of those in earlier life, 
must be attributed to climate. They seem " hard as iron," it may be said, and that 
metal in Italy is in a very different state to iron with us. A curious unpainted iron 
trellis, for example, protects the tombs of the Scaligers, and is n ,w some two hmidred 
years old. Yet this screen, though some parts of it, as the armorial bearings of the 
family, are thin, has not been injured by time. The Italian air, even when charged 
with sea-salt, appears to have little effect on iron. 

Among the many illustrious men of whom Verona has been the cradle, the poet 
Pindemonte ought to be mentioned. To adopt the words of Mr. Rose, " Mr. Forsyth, 
our best Italian traveller, sums up the merits of this gentleman by saying that he thinks, 
and makes his readers think. "Were I confined to the same number of words, I should 
say, that he feels, and makes his readers /ee/; but his merits are not so succinctly to be 
disposed of: These are not, perhaps, such as always to meet the prevailing taste of 
England, who, disgusted with the cold glare and glitter of what has been called an 
' Augustan age,' may be said to have revolutionised her poetry. But those who have 
formed their taste on the principles of highly- cultivated poetry, or those who, though 
they may prefer those forms which have more recently arisen among us, should not 
therefore exclude one which rests upon another base, but admit as many and as various 
schools in poetry as in painting ; in short, liberal lovers of the art will, I think, derive 
pleasure from the works of Pindemonte." But we must now leave Verona for another 
remarkable city, Padua. 

The poetic legend which ascribed the foundation of Patatium to Autenor, a Trojan 
prince, must be admitted to vouch at least for its high antiquity. In the 450th year of 
Rome, the ancient Patavinians are recorded to have repulsed from their shores a party of 
Spartan invaders, who, driven by contrary winds from Tarentum, had taken shelter 
at the mouth of the Brenta, near Fusina, and thence made a descent upon the defenceless 
villages. The shields of the Greeks and the beaks of their galleys, Livy informs us, 
were suspended in the temple of Jimo ; and an annual mock fight on the Brenta per- 
petuated the memory of the triumph. Strabo speaks of Pataviiini as the greatest and 
most flourishing city in the north of Italy. In his time it numbered 500 Roman knights 
among its citizens, and could at one period send 20,000 men into the field. Its manu- 
factures of cloth and woollen stuffs were renowned throughout Italy ; and its wealth, 
celebrity, and importance entitled it to be regarded as the capital of ancient Venetia. 
Vessels could come up to the city from the sea, a distance of 250 dadia, by the Meduacus, 
which had a capacious port at its mouth. 

After having shared in the glory of Rome, this city shared in her disasters ; was 
plundered and depopulated by the Groths, and successively Ijore the yoke of the Lombards, 
the Franks, and the Germans. In the twelfth century, Padua Avas governed, like the 
other cities of Lombardy, by its podcsta, who was elected from the citizens ; but the 
office, from being at first the object of contest between rival factions, became at length 
the hereditary possession of the most powerful noble. At the time that the feuds 
between the two great factions of Guelphs and GhibeHnes were at their height, Eccehno 
da Romano, whose castles lay between Verona and Padua, was, under the influence of 
the Ghibeline party, chosen podesta of the former city. At his invitation, in 1236, the 
Emperor Frederic II. entered Italy, and after having sacked Vicenzn, left his troops 
under the command of his partisan, who obtained by his intrigues the possession of Padua. 



In the management of ,his new conquest, Eccelino acted witli a vigour and policy whicli, 
liad it been controlled by humanity and sanctioned by justice, might have claimed admi- 
ration; He carried off hostages,, enrolled citizens among his troops, and punished with 
signal severity- all atteinpts at emigration. . It: was not till his authority was firmly 
established, that the sanguinary character of the tyrant began to develop itself in the 
most remorseless : cruelties. - The scaffold was made to flow with the blood of the 
numerous victims of his ambition or jealousy, among whom was his own nephew ; and 
new prisons were built to receive in crowds the partisans of friends of those whom he 
had destroyed. Verona was cursed with the presence of the tyrant in person. Padua 
was governed by one of his nephews, Ansedisio de Guidotti — a monster as bloodthirsty 
as his master ; and his other towns and castles were consigned to the rule of men of the 
same stamp. 

The death of the Emperor Frederic II., in 1250, gave new energy to the ferocity of 
Eccelino. Considering himself now as an independent potentate, he signalised his abso- 
lute power by the murder of the most distinguished individuals in his dominions. The 
pretence of a detected conspiracy was seized on to commence an imparalleled slaughter. 




EMr^NCC OF THE 



L:;f or riiE epent> 



Skilful merchants, enlightened advocates, prelates, and other ecclesiastics, distinguished 
by their talents or piety, perished on the scaffold, and their property was confiscated. 
Noble matrons and delicate and beautiful virgins wasted away in unknown dmigeons, 
amid pestilence and everj^ species of cruel injury. Ey day and by night might be heard 
the shrieks and groans of the tortured or the dying. One is ready to suspect of exagge- 
ration the language of the contemporary chroniclers, who record the almost incredible 
atrocities of this insatiable homicide and 'envenomed dragon.' At length, the general 
abhorrence excited by his crimes, together with the more .powerful motive of a dread of 
his talents and ambition, stirred up a crusade of the neighbouring powers against him, 
under the auspices of Pope Alexander IV. At its head were the Archbishop cf Ravenna, 
and Badoero, a Venetian general ; and the cities, of Ferrara, Mantua, and Trent, with 
the powerful republic of Bologna, declared against the tyrant. On the banks of the 
Mincio, Eccelino received the intelligence that Padua had been carried by assault and 
pillaged by the crusadere. He had in his army, at this time, eleven thousand Padovese, ' 
coinprising one-third of his force. Fearing their defection, he contrived, by a series of 
perfidious measures, to secure the whole of that number, including the flower and strength 



PADUA. , CG9 

of Padua, in different prisons, where, by famine, fire, or sword, they were all cut off, v/ith 
the exception of about two hundred persons. At last, in 1259, this enemy of the human 
race was defeated and made prisoner in a bold attempt to make himself master of Milan. 
The Marquis d'Este, who was at the head of the victorious army, protected his captive 
from outrage, and surgical aid was offered him ; but Eccelino sullenly rejecting all alle- 
viation of his fate, is said to have torn open his wounds ; and on the eleventh day of 
his captivitj'-, died at Soncino, in the sixty-fifth year of his age ; " for whose death," says 
an old chronicler, " may the name of the Lord be blessed through ages, and ages, and 
beyond ! " 

This specimen of the history of Italy in the middle ages, making every allowance for 
the colouring which the Gruelphic prejudices of monkish chroniclers may have led them to 
throw into the composition, affords but too faithful a picture of those barbarous times. 
It is remarkable that the year in which Eccelino perished, is that in which the building 




GORGES OF THE BEENTji 



of the church of Saint Antonio, at Padua, is said to have commenced ; so soon had the 
clergy at least recovered from the effects of his tyrannical cruelties and exactions. 
Towards the close of this same century, the thirteenth, the University of Padua appears 
to have been first established by some professors and scholars who seceded from Bologna. 
In the fourteenth century, Padua owned the sway of the Carrara family. At the 
beginning of the fifteenth, it had come into the possession of the Venetian Republic, and 
a law, enacted in 1407, secure! to it the exclusive privileges of a university, forbidding 
the teaching of any science, the rudiments of grammar excepted, in any other city of 
the Republic. 

And now commences the era of the literary glory of Padua, where Dante, Petrarch, 
and Tasso, and even our own Chaucer, are said to have prosecuted their studies. During 
the fifteenth and sixteenth, centuries its university was crowded with scholars, attracted 
from. aU parts of Europe by the fame of its professors. Not only Christians, Greeks, and 
Latins, from Italy, Germany, Dalmatia, France, England, and Scotland, but even Turks, 



570 .ITALY. 

Persians, and Arabians, are said to have come from the distant East, to study medicine 
and botany in the schools of Padova la dotta. Vesalius, of Brussels, celebrated for his 
skill in anatomy throughout Europe, at the invitation of the republic, filled the 
professorship of that science at Padua from 1537 to 1542. He was afterwards physician 
to the Emperor Charles Y. The celebrated Faloppio was professor of anatomy in 1555 ; 
and Fabrizio de Aquapendente about 1594, at whose instance an anatomical theatre was 
first constructed at Padua, after the example of Pisa and Pavia. Of this learned man 
our own Harvey became a pupil at the age of nineteen ; and in his writings he always 
expresses a high regard for- his master. In the year 1602, Harvey was created doctor of 
physic and surgery in this university. Gralileo was professor of natural philosophy at 
Padua, from 1592 to 1610 ; where, for some months, in 1609, his lectures were attended 
by Grustavus Adolphus, then at the age of fifteen, and afterwards the great champion of 
the Protestant cause in Germany. The botanic garden was founded in 1552, by the 
learned Daniel Barbaro, author of an edition of Vitruvius ; and a professorship of botany 
was instituted in the year following. Santorio, to whom both medicine and natural 
philosophy are greatly indebted, was professor of medicine during part of the sixteenth 
century. In 1700, Guglielmini was professor of hydrauhc engineering ; and the 
illustrious Morgagni was professor of anatomy during part of. the eighteenth century. 
When this university was at its zenith, the number of students is said to have amounted 
to 15,000 or 18,000 ; but this is probably an exaggeration. 

"Padua," says Mr. Rose, "is a city which, beyond all other imhappy towns, disap- 
points the expectations of the traveller. Its streets, flanked on both sides with arcades, 
present such an appearance of melancholy monotony, as leave no room for regret that 
Nero did not realise, as he intended, the same design as at Pome, though it is true that 
these afford a great convenience in the hot and in the rainy season. Add dirt to dulness, 
and to that an air little superior to what is breathed by a cat in an air-pump, and you 
wiU have an adequate idea of Padua. The ugliness, however, of an Italian city is 
never unredeemed deformity ; and even Padua has one pleasing and interesting feature 
in the Prd de la Vale. 

" The Prd de la Vale, formerly a marsh, as its name implies, bears some resemblance to 
a London square; but the interior, the principal point of likeness, is inclosed and 
ornamented in a very different stjde. This is shut ofl" by a circular branch of running 
water, brought from the Brenta, the banks of which are fringed with a double rank of 
statues, the exterior facing outwards, and the interior inwards. These are all worthies 
of the place ; and it may be remarked, that this sort of apotheosis of their citizens — as 
here, and at Verona — is peculiar, to Venetian towns. Still, this is the only local beauty 
in Padua ; yet is this city the favourite summer residence of the Venetians, who here 
re-enact the same round of life which they live in the palace of St. Mark. One woidd 
imagine, that if he had no taste for rural beauties, the Venetian might choose a more 
salutary air ; and that he had had enough of mosquitoes, not to seek a place where 
they may be said to have established their head-quarters, and only to divide their 
power with the flies and fleas. 

"It must, however, be confessed that Padua, as well as Venice, contains better 
defences against fleas, the worst plague of Italy, than other towns — these are stuccoed 
floors, called here terrazi. The process adopted in their formation is very simple. On 
some binding substance the stucco is placed, and while it is still wet, there are sown small 
pieces of marble, composed of the sweepings of sculptors' shops. These are rammed 
down, the whole is pumiced, and the ground is then tinged with due regard to the tints 
of the marble, either as to gradation or contrast of colour. The floor is now well 
polished, and presents the appearance of a beautiful variegated marble. A border and a 
centre ornament are sometimes added." 



PADUA. 571 

In this account of the place will easily be detected something of the spirit of caricature, 
as the spirit of romance characterises the following very slight but lively sketch, which 
may serve as an agreeable preface to a more detailed description. 

" I spent two days in Old Padua. It is a place where I could for many weeks have 
lingered. I think it suited to a reading, sauntering man. There are long arcades, and 
there are old-fashioned furniture and book-stalls at the street-corners. There is a 
pleasant river, and there are green gardens, and turfy ramparts, and the snowy Alps are 
to be seen from them. The building of the university is very small : it has a court with 
a cloister below and galleries above ; on the walls are many coats of arms of those who 
have studied at ' learned Padua.' You may look into the bare and empty schools. At 
the time I was there it was a season of vacation, and very few students were to be seen in 
the city. 

" In the centre of a large open space, or square, there is an adorned spot called Prd 
de la Vale. It is a circular meadow, with flagged walks, with a small canal round it. 
On either bank of this canal are placed the statues of all the famous men who were 
taught at Padua. This island promenade, having seats, and shrubs, and ornamental 
monuments, and vases, and magically protected all round by these silent protectors of the 
fame of Old Padua, is a pleasant place to stroll in. You will meet no one, and may talk 
to yourself unobserved : indeed you may do that anywhere in Italy ; for moving lips, 
and the gestures of delight or disappointment, as men walking alone express these 
feelings, excite no astonishment in Italy. 

" The church of Santa Guistina, in a corner of this square, is a noble building, and the 
interior light and grand. As you look at four large and four smaller cupolas from 
without, it is mosque-like. The church of 8. Antonio, the tutelar saint, is a curious old 
Gothic edifice, with pictures, tombs, shrines, four organs, and, when I was in it, a most 
numerous congregation. After mass, the crowd of country devotees came flocking to the 
chapel of the sanctuary, where the relics of St. Anthony are preserved, and kissed every 
statue and small relief around. There is, near this church, an equestrian statue, in 
bronze, of a Yenetian general; and there is a college near, with fresco paintings by 
Titian and his school, representing the life and miracles of St. Anthony. 

" They show you a curious old house which they call that of the great Livy. This can 
no more be swallowed by the greediest hunter after recollections and sensations, than the 
tomb of Antenor in another street. Livy's house is, however, just such a one as an old 
lover of black-letter books would like for his dwelling. One of the finest and most singular 
buildings here is the large hall in the Palace of Justice. It is three hundred feet long 
and one hundred feet broad, and very lofty; yet there is no pillar or column to support 
the roof. The walls are painted in small compartments, with curious scenes and symbols. 
There is a monument here to thfe memory of Livy ; and one to a chaste matron who 
defended her honour to the death about two centuries ago. At the bottom of the 
hall are two Egyptian statues, black and lion-headed, the gifts of Belzoni to his native 
city. But for the bold impulses of his nature, and his fearless following of them, 
Belzoni might have lived and died shaving beards in Padua. 

" There are many other things to see here. Two rivers flow throiigh the town. There 
are squares with porticoes ; there are the remains of the ancient city's walls ; there are 
some handsome gates ; and as the space within the later fortifications (now all neglected) 
is large, you find gardens and almost coimtry houses within the gates. Everything a 
man might require to make life easy would be procurable at Padua ; and such men as 
love that old book, 'Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy,' might carry it with them to a 
quiet lodging in Padua, and sit in the shade and eat grapes in the summer, and pile up 
wood- fire and drink good wine in the winter, and live in peace. I am speaking only to 
college hermits, or antiquaries, or weavers of old tales; solitary, forlorn men, unwedded 



072 ITALY. 

and without professions, or health for active life : and, I am sure I do not err, such men 
would like Padua." 

But we cannot dispose of such a city so summarily, and we shall therefore proceed 
to examine it with a more minute and, as we think, accurate attention. 

To begin with the church of St. Anthony of Padua, " the most powerful of miracle- 
workers," who has been allowed, it seems, to take usurped possession of an edifice 
originally consecrated to the Madonna. It is, indeed, a vast pile, exhibiting seven 
domes, with a small octagonal tower above the gable of the front, two high octagonal 
towers near the choir, and a lofty cone in the centre, surmounted by an angel. The 
architect of the facade, which is a hundred and twenty-eight feet long, and ninety-three 
feet high, is said to have been Nicola de Pisa, to whom is also attributed the design of 
the whole edifice. According to the current account, preparations were made, almost 
immediately after the death and canonisation of the Gran Taiimatiirgo, for erecting an 
immense church in his honour ; but political disorders suspended the execution, so that 
no material progress was made till 1259. In 1307 the whole was finished, except one 
cupola and the internal work of the choir, which was not perfected till 1424. The church 
is three hundred and twenty-six feet in length, a hundred and sixty feet wide in the 
transept, and a hundred and twenty-eight feet high in the domes. The internal archi- 
tecture is so odd and complicated, that it would require a very long description to make 
the arrangement understood, and would not repay the trouble. The doubt suggests 
itself, however, whether the cupolas and the facade have not been grafted upon the 
original edifice, and the awkwardness and complication of the plan may not be the result 
of incongruous adaptation. A circular sanctuary behind the choir forms evidently no 
part of the original structure. 

The shrine of the saint is as splendid as gold and marble can make it, and the lower 
part, which is a range of five arches on columns, is good ; the top is overloaded with a 
double attic. Round about it are representations, in mezzo relievo, of the miracles 
ascribed to St. Anthony, "exquisitely wrought in white marble" (as Evelyn has it) "by 
the three famous sculptors, TuUius Lombardus, Jacobus Sansovinus, and Hieronymo 
Compagno. A little higher is the choir, walled, parapet fashion, with sundry coloured 
stone half relievo, the work of Andrea Riccii. The wainscot of the choir is rarely inlaid 
and carved. Here are the sepulchres of many famous persons, as of Rodolphus and 
Fulgosi, &c. ; and among the rest, one that, for an exploit at sea, has a galley exquisitely 
carved thereon." 

The body of the saint is said to be enclosed in a sarcophagus under the altar. " There 
are narrow clefts," says Addison, " in the monument that stands over him, where good 
Catholics rub their beads, and smell his bones, which they say have in them a natural 
perfume, though very like apoplectic balsam ; and what would make one suspect that 
they rub the marble with it, it is observed that the scent is stronger in the morning than 
at night. There are abundance of inscriptions- and pictures hung up by his votaries in 
several parts of the church ; for it is the way of those who are in any signal danger, to 
implore his aid ; and if they come ofi' safe, they call their deliverance a miracle, and 
perhaps hang up the picture or description of it in the church." The blaze of tapers and 
the smoke of incense still surround the gorgeous shrine of the wonder-working saint, but 
his remains have lost the power of emitting celestial odours. His chin and tongue — that 
tongue which uttered the edifying sermon to the fishes of the Adriatic that drew from 
them the mute show of gratitude and profound humility — are preserved in a separate 
chapel in a crystal vessel ; and the precious relic is shown to all who have the curiosity 
to see it. The portrait of St. Anthony, in fresco, by Giotto, adorns the walls of the choir. 
It represents a fat, contented-looking personage, with an intelligent, good-humoured 
countenance, and nothing about him of the ascetic. Bishop Burnet speaks of the 



TADUA. 573 

devotion that was paid to this saint all over Lombardy in his time, as amazing. " Anthony 
is called, by way of excellence, II Santo, and the beggai's generally ask alms for his sake." 
This is in character, for he was a Franciscan. Though he takes his name from this city, 
where he died in 1230, he was born at Lisbon. So great was the odour of his sanctity, 
or the fame of his miracles, that he was canonised within a year of his death by Pope 
Gregory IX. 

A recent traveller, inspecting the series of miracles, says, " On showing us the next, 
our guide was anxious to know if we perfectly comprehended him : — a heretic defies the 
saint, who throws out a tumbler to convince him ; the glass stood the shock, but the 
stone on which it fell was shivered to pieces, — ' arete capito?' Capito ? si I we understood 
the relation, but as to the fact — is that all ? ' Neither that, nor our belief,' he says, ' are 
his afiair,' he has done his duty as expositor, and proceeds to the next narrative in stone." 
This circumstance reminds the writer of a party of his friends visiting one of the 
continental churches, when, as the attendant was shi>\\iini lln lu dik ni h \' Ihjus relics. 




one of them inquired, if he believed they were what he described them to be ? He 
replied naively enough, that it was not necessary for him to do so, as he was only the 
dejmty of the sacristan ! 

The church of Santa Guistina, attached to a magnificent Benedictine abbey, is 
mentioned by Evelyn as an " excellent piece of architecture of Andrea Palladio." 
Bishop Burnet describes it as " a church so well ordered within, the architecture is so 
beautiful, and it is so well enlightened, that if the outside answered to the inside, it 
would be one of the best churches ia Italy ; but the building is of brick, and it hath no 
frontispiece. There are many new altars, made as fine as they are idolatrous, all full of 
statues of marble. This abbej^ hath 100,000 ducats of revenue, and so by its wealth one 
may conclude that it belonged to the Benedictine order." Addison speaks of this church 
in terms of high admiration, describing it as the most handsome, luminous, disencum- 
bered building in the inside that he had ever seen, and as esteemed by many artists one 

the finest works in Italy. 

The nave of this church is covered with a line of five cupolas, and the transept has on 
each side a single cupola deeper and broader than the others. Although these produce a 



574 ITALY. 

good effect in the interior, they give to the outside of the church a resemblance to a 
mosque, and, with one high tower, render it almost as ugly, Mr. Wood saj^s, as that of 
St. Anthony. The first thing that struck this traveller in the interior, was the white- 
wash with which walls, columns, and arches are covered. " It is wonderful," he 
remarks, " how much this empty glare can spoil the effect of the finest buUding. After 
the first impression of this had passed off, I admired with the rest of the world. The 
excellence of the building consists in the great space between the piers, equal to the 
width of the nave, and the loftiness of the side arches. The nave is one hundred and 
eighty -two feet long, thirty -five feet wide, and eighty-two feet high ; the aisles are 
nineteen feet wide, and forty-one feet high. The transept is two hundred and fifty-two 
feet long, thirty-nine wide, and eighty-two high. The piers of the nave are twelve feet 
square. Two little chapels open into each of the recesses forming the side aisle. These 
are badly managed, and the details are execrable ; but the general disposition has an 
appearance of space and airiness which is very magnificent." 

Mr. Forsyth seems to have been greatly impressed with the grandeur of the architec- 
ture of Santa Guistina. " The Ionic aisles," he says, " stand in that middle sphere 
between the elegant and the sublime, which maj' be called the noble. "jThis church," he 
adds, " like a true Benedictine, is rich in the spiritual and the temporal, in sculpture and 
painting, in the bones of three thousand saints, and the disputed bodies of two apostles. 
Paul Veronese's ' Martyrdom of St. Justina ' stiU remains here. Periodi's ' Dead Christ' 
is a grand composition in statuary, without one particle of the sublime." 

The Abbey itself deserves attention. Evelyn mentions the dormitory as exceedingly 
commodious and stately ; but what pleased him most was " the old cloister, so well 
painted with the legendary saints, mingled with many ancient inscriptions and pieces of 
urns, dug up, it seems, at the foundation of the church." 

The foundations of Santa Guistina are said to have been begun in 1502 ; but the soil 
was found so loose and marshy, that little progress could be made ; one hole was so large 
and deep, that it swallowed up all the materials prepared for the whole edifice. The 
work was, therefore, suspended till 1521, when it was resumed on a different design, but 
so as to make use of the old foundations. This was the Avork of Andrea Crispo ; and 
the building was finished in seventy years. The design, hoAvever, is said to have been 
furnished by Palladio. 

The Cathedral is a large church of Grecian architecture, built of brick, but intended to 
receive a stone front, which has not been executed. The plan seems to consist of two 
Greek crosses, one beyond the other, of which the further one is the larger. This church 
contains nothing curious or remarkable, except a miraculous Madonna, painted by Giotto 
in the stjde of the Greek image-makers, and sparingly exhibited under a gauze veil ; a 
modern monimieut to Petrarch, who was a canon of this cathedral ; and his jportrait, in 
the sacristy ; in which also there is a Madonna and Child, by Titian. 

One of the Gothic buildings which appeared to Mr. Wood the most striking, is the 
church of the Eremitani, not so much from any architectural beaiity as from the effect 
of light. It is a simple room, without columns or pilasters, and with a wooden roof of 
no merit. The original light seems to have been a small circular window at the western 
end ; but two side windows have been added- The walls are adorned with altars, though 
without recesses ; but at the end is an apsis, or recess, for the high altar, which has three 
very small Avindows of its own, and, together Avith the altar itself, is rich with painting 
and gilding. In this church there is a beautiful John the Baptist, by Guide, Avhich 
seems almost to stand out in relief. 

In the baptistry, and in the Church of the Arena, the principal objects are the 
paintings of Giotto and Guisto : in the productions of the latter the relief is very 
perfect, in spite of the gilding A^ith which, as usual in that age, the pictures abound. 



PADUA. • 575 

In tlie churcL. of S. Rocco, there is a Madonna and Child behind the altar, which Mr. 
"Wood mistook at first for one of those painted figures so common in Italian churches ; 
and it was not till he revisited the church that he discovered it to be an early painting 
by Bonconsigli. 

La Madre Dolente is mentioned by this traveller as curious for its singular architecture. 
An oblong room, with a small cupola rising on four columns in the centre, leads to a 
circular structure covered with a larger dome, in which the groins are made to unite with 
the arch of entrance, and with those of four semicircular side chapels ; eight columns 
support a circular lantern above the dome, the altar standing in the centre. 

S. Gaetano is a small church, " only a dome and chapel, but a rich and splendid mass 
of beautiful marble, paintings, and sculpture." A fine picture by Titian, representing 
the Doge of Venice taking possession of Padua ; a beautiful monument by Canova, to the 
memory of Frederick "William George, Prince of Orange Nassau, a general in the 
Austrian service, who died of a wound at Padua, at the age of twenty-five ; and two 
ancient tombs of the Carrara family, are to be seen in another church, of which we are 
unable to give the dedicatory name. Such, then, are the most remarkable of the ninety- 
five churches which Padua is said to contain. 

Among the other public buildings, is the Town Hall, commonly called II Salone (other- 
wise the Palazzo di Ragione, or di Ouistisia), but it claims a further description. The 
building was commenced in 1172, but was not completed till 1306. It is boasted of as 
the largest room in Europe without columns ; but the measurements are variously stated. 
"What is very singular, it is not rectangular. The roof is of dark, carved wood, shaped 
like a reversed keel, and is sustained by multitudes of iron ties (c/iiave). The walls were 
originally painted in fresco by Giotto and his scholars, but were retouched, in 1762, by 
Zannoni. One of the ciu-iosities contained in this hall, is the elevated stone, inscribed 
with the words " Lapis Vituperii," which formerly served, by a simple process, all 
the purpose of our insolvent courts. Any unfortunate citizen who found himself unable 
to pay his debts, and was willing to swear that he was not worth five poimds, was thrice 
seated by the bailiff's upon this stone, bare, and in full hall, each time repeating the 
words " Cedo bonis," and was by this ordeal cleared from liability to any further prose- 
cution. " But this is a punishment," says Addison, " that nobody has submitted to 
these four-and-twenty years." 

Externally, this hall is splendid in its OAvn style, but that style is not beautiful. Its 
two fronts are ornamented with double open galleries ; the lower story supported on low, 
massy columns, now much concealed by shops placed between, and the upper on pillars 
of red Yerona marble. Evelyn mentions it as having suggested the noble design of the 
Hall of Justice at Yicenza. Adjacent to it is a very handsome edifice, the residence of 
the Podesta, the governor of the city. 

One relic and monument of the barbarous ages will excite shuddering recollections in 
those whom Sisniondi's interesting "History of the Italian Eepublics" has familiarised 
with the name of Ezzelino, or Eccelino III., the ferocious lord of Padua, Vicenza, and 
Yerona. The tower is still used as an observatory, from which, being much devoted to 
astrology, lie is said to have watched the aspect and conjunctions of the planets — 



" aa old dxuigeon tower, 



Whence blood ran once, the tower of Ezzelin." 
The mention of this execrable tyrant, styled by Ariosto, 



' imnianissimo tu-£ 



Che fia oreduto figlio del demonio," 
will recall the history which has been already narrated. 



576 ITALY. 

. The small hamlet or yillago of 'Arquel, consisting of poor detached houses, situated 
amongst orchards and olive-trees, has an interest of its own. On the top of a high hill, 
and within the narrow limits of a garden, stands the house of Petrarch. " Around the 
walls of the centre room, where we entered," says Mrs. Ashton YateSj " and also in the 
two chambers which Petrarch more particularly occupied, there is fresco painting about 
a foot in depth, just beneath the ceiling. Laura and he are depicted everywhere ; it 
forms a kind of history of the progress of their acquaintances and of his attachment. 
The series commences by Petrarch's meeting with Laura on her return from church, 
where he first saw her' dressed in the memorable robe embroidered with violets, the 
flower to which the appropriate motto has been given, ' pour me trouver, il faut me 
chercher.' I marvel that W3 ladies have not been fonder of such ornament, associated 
as it has become with I'etiring modesty on the one part, and fervent constancy on 
the other. 

" Some wise people consider Petrarch's devotion to Laura was unworthy a man of his 
great powers, and that he ought to have applied them to purposes more beneficial to 
mankind, and not have wasted his time in writing love verses. He did not, it must be 
admitted, neglect the business of life ; he was indefatigable in his efforts to serve his . 
country, whose fallen and divided state lay heavy at his heart ; and he likewise used all 
possible means, and often most successfully, in aid of the revival of learning." 

The accordant words of Byron will be readily suggested : — 

" There is a tomb in Arqua : reai-ed in air, 

Pillowed in their sarcophagus, repose 

The hones of Laura's lover. Here repair 

Many familiar with his well-sung woes, 

'J'he pilgrims of his genius. He arose 

To raise a language, and his land reclaim 

From the dull 5'oke of her barbaric foes, 
AVatering the tree which bears his lady's name 
With his melodious tears, he gave himself to fame. 

" The}' keep his dust in Arqua, where he died ; 

The mountain village where his latter days 

AVent down the vale of years ; and 'tis their pride — 

An honest pride, and let it be their praise — 

To otfer to the passing stranger's gaze 

His mansion and his sepulchre ; both plain 

And venerably simple, such as raise 
A feeling more accordant with Hs strain, 
Than if a pyramid formed his monumental fane. 

" And the soft quiet hamlet where he dwelt. 

Is one of that complexion which seem made 

For those who their mortality have felt. 

And sought a refuge from theu' hopes decayed. 

In the deep umbrage of a green hill's shade, 

"Which shows a distant prospect far away 

Of busy cities now in vain displayed, 
For they can lure no further ; and the ray 
Of a bright sun cau make sufficient holiday." 

Mantua (properly Mantona), once considered as the key of the north of Italy, is 
situated very low, in the midst of a lake formed by damming up the waters of the Mincio, 
which divides the town. This lake, which appears to have been originally a swamp, is 
traversed by two long bridges, or rather dams, perforated with arches at irregular 



578 ITALY. 

intervals to let out the superfluous water. The fortifications have not an Imposing 
appearance, but are strong from their position, and are kept in good repair. The town 
is very old, and though there are some good streets, it is neither well-built nor pleasantly 
situated. The best part is the Piazza Virgiliana, a large squai-e surrounded with trees, 
and open on one side to the lake and to the distant AJps. At the time of its greatest 
prosperity Giulio Romano .was made the arbiter of everything that was erected at 
Mantua ; notwithstanding which, it exhibits the most whimsical and capricious archi- 
tecture of any city in Italy. "On escaping from the discipline of Raffaele's school," 
remarks Mr. Forsyth, "where he had done nothing original, and finding no superior 
excellence to check him at Mantua, Giulio dashed here into all the irregularities of genius, 
and ran after the Tuscan graces, the mighty, the singular, the austere, the emphatic. 
In the palace of the Te, he assembled all these graces on the Fall of the Giants ; and he 
left on the very architecture a congenial stamp." 

The cathedral was originally a Gothic building of brick ; and one or two fragments of 
the old edifice remain in a very picturesqiie style. The side chapels form a range of 
extremely acute gables. Here are two lancet windows, and turrets between the chapels, 
rising on a sort of buttress. The interior, which is from the designs of Giulio Romano, 
with some more modern alterations, may be regarded as a bad imitation of Santa Maria 
Maggiore at Rome, but with double ranges of side-aisles. They are divided by six rows 
of insidated columns, which stand very far apart; but the grandeur of the design is 
defeated by the extreme diminution of the aisles. The church is also too high in 
proportion to its width. It forms a cross, Vv'ith a small cuj)ola at the intersection, on 
which are painted the four Evangelists. The arch of the tribune is also finely painted. 
The chxirch is dedicated to St. Anselmo, who is the patron saint of Mantua. 

There are two churches in Mantua built from the designs of Alberti; St. Sebastian 
and St. Andrea. The former has little to recommend it to notice. The facade presents 
an arcade of five arches, with pilasters between, very small in proportion to the great 
square mass above. The interior is a Greek cross, with slight recesses : the details arc 
not good, and the whole is whitewashed. St. Andrea, however, is a noble edifice, and 
may fairly be considered, Mr. Wood thinks, as one of the handsomest in Italy. The 
doorway is ornamented with a well-executed imitation of the pilaster foliage in the Villa 
Medici at Rome, only with the substitution of a vase for the beautiful group of acanthus- 
leaves in the original. The nave is supported on pilasters alternatelj'", seven diameters 
and about half that width apart, the largest spaces being arched chapels. The 2Dilasters 
are all panelled and filled with painted ornaments. The vault is unbroken, and lias 
regular square panels. The principal light is from the drum of the cupola, but there arc 
also semicircular windows at the extremities of the side chapels, and small circular 
windows over tlie narrow interpilasters. The church is about 340 feet long, and the nave 
is about 60 feet long and 90 feet high. It was begun in 1470, but the whole was not 
completed till so recently as 1782. In the subterranean chapel is an alabaster-box, 
supposed to contain some of our Lord's blood, which is devoutly worshipped. Here are 
two fine statues of Faith and Hope, by Canova. 

At the extremity of the upper bridge there is a handsome gateway,. attributed to 
Giulio Romano, who erected also the open arcade on the bridge over the Mincio, in the 
heart of the city. The dwelling of " the painter architect" is also shown ; a very 
whimsical composition, nearly opposite the church of St. Barnabas, where he was buried. 
The ashes of Tasso rest in the chui-ch of St. Egida. 

The ducal palace within the city is beautifully floored with porcelain composition, and 
there is much Flemish and Mantuan tapestry ; but the greater part of the apartments have 
been sacked at difi'erent times, and present a melancholy scene of desolation. If it were 
perfect, Mr. Pennington says, it would be one of the finest palaces in Europe. One room 



MANTUA. . 579 

only is left, painted in fresco by Giulio Eomano ; the subject, the Trojan war. Another 
room is adorned with the signs of the zodiac ; and some rich furnitiu-e is still left. 

This city is stated to have contaiaed 50,000 persons in the seventeenth century : its 
present population amounts to about half that number. " An evident depopulation, a 
general stiUness, sallow faces, and some grass-grown streets," formed, when Mr. Forsyth 
visited it, the characteristic features of its general appearance to a stranger, giving " it a 
sad resemblance to Ferrara." Mr. Eose also speaks of its melancholy and deserted 
appearance, of the swamps which surround the city, and of the visible eifects of the 
mephitic vapour they exhale, ia the muddy complexions of the inhabitants. The 
Austrian government has, however, been at considerable expense in rendering Mantua 
less insalubrious, by draining part of the marshes, and opening a passage for the stagnant 
waters. 

The manufactures, though not so extensive as formerly, are stiU considerable, 
consisting of silks, woollens and leather. The commerce of the town is entirely in the 
hands of the Jews, who amount to several thousands in number, and have here a 
sjaiagogue. Mantua is indebted to the Austrian government for an Imperial academy of 
arts and science. It has also a university and public library, but they are of no 
consideration. In fact, Mantua, since it has ceased to be the capital of an independent 
principality, has lost all its political importance, except as a garrison station. In 1797, 
it sustained a siege of eight months from the French, but at length surrendered. It was 
retaken by the Austro-Eussian army in 1799. In 1801 it was ceded to France, and 
incorporated with the kiagdom of Italy. It is now the head town of a delegation under 
the government of Milan. 

Two miles from Mantua is the village of Pietola, reputed by a vague tradition to be the 
same as Andes, the birth-place of Yirgil. The dukes of Mantua had a palace here, 
called La VirgUiana, which still exists, though much dilapidated. Eustace, however, 
would place the farm of Virgil not far from Valeggio, near which town the hUls begin to 
subside, and lose themselves in the immense plains of Mantua. " On no other part of 
the banks of the Miricio," he says, " are to be discovered, either the bare rocks that 
disfigured the farm of Tityrus, or the towering crag that shaded the pruner as he sang, 
or the viae-clad grotto where the shepherd reclined, or the bushy cliif whence the 
browsing goats seemed as if suspended, or the lofty mountains which in the evening cast 
their protracted shadows over 'the plain. The spreading beech, indeed, and aerial elm 
still delight in the soil, and adorn the banks of the Miacio in all its windings." 
Eustace, however, seems to have overlooked the probability that the birth-place and the 
farm of Virgil were two places. 

Cremona, the capital of the province of the same name, in the Lombardo-Venetian 
kingdom, is a well-built town, encompassed with walls, bastions, and ditches, and 
defended by a citadel called Santa Croce. It occupies a considerable area, about two 
leagues in circumference. Like most of the cities of Lombardy, it has a melancholy 
appearance from the evident signs of decaj^ and large tracts of grass being seen in 
many of the broad and regular streets. Among its four-and- forty churches, the Duomo 
alone has any particular attractions. This is an ancient edifice in the style of 
architecture approaching to Saxon, mixed with a sort of mongrel Italian. If not 
beautifid, it is at least picturesque ; and its lofty tower, 372 feet in height, is singularly 
so, being adorned with a sort of rich open work : it is one of the highest in Italy. The 
interior is composed of a nave with two aisles, divided by eight immense plUars, above 
which are a series of paintings by Bordenone, representing the birth and passion of our 
Saviour. Near the cathedi-al is an octagon baptistry, said to have been once a temple of 
Minerva. In the town-hall, among other paintings, there is a fine picture by Paul 
A''eronese ; the subject is the " Martyrdom of St. Lorenzo." 

2 r 2 



580 ITALY. 

Cremona is tlie residence of the delegate or governor of tie province. It has civil, 
criminal, and commercial courts, a lyceum, a gymnasium, and a school of the fine arts. 
It contains also several private galleries of paintings, of which, that of Count Ponzoni is 
the principal. It was the first city of Italy in which infant schools were established in 
1829, through the exertions of a philanthropic clergyman, Abate Aporti, and from thence 
they spread into other provinces. 

Cremona has long held a high reputation in Italy and other parts of Europe, for the 
high excellence of its musical instruments, particularly its violins. These were made, 
in the seventeenth century, by the Amati family, and at the commencement of the 
eighteenth, by Stradiuarius. It carries on a considerable trade in agricultural produce 
by means of the Po. It has never been, however, a seat of the arts ; and no object 
remains to divert the eye from the dull and vacant regularity of the streets, except the 
great Porazzo, as the tower of the cathedral is called. Its antiquities appear to have 
been swept away by the successive revolutions it has undergone. Founded by the Grauls, 
and colonised, at the same time with Placentia, by tlie Romans, it suffered severely both 
during the second Punic war, and in the civil wars which ensued after the death of 





LAKE GARDA 



Caesar. Yet, in the time of Strabo, it ranked as one of the most considerable towns in 
the north of Italy. It was laid waste with fire and swoi-d by the troops of Vespasian, 
but rose from its ashes with fresh privileges under that emperor. After being destroyed 
a second time by the Lombards, it Avas rebuilt, in 1184, by the emperor Frederic I. 
The present town, therefore, dates only from the close of the twelfth century. Since 
that time, its political history is much the same as that of Milan, of which duchy it 
formed a part under the Visconti and Sforzas. It afterwards fell under the dominion of 
the Venetians, but is now annexed to the government of Milan. 

Bergamo, the capital of another province of the Lombardo- Venetian kingdom, is 
built on the brow of a hill, commanding an extensive view of the Milanese plain towards 
the south, while on the northern side the Alps of the Valteline and the Grisons are seen 
rising one above the other ; and the old castle which crowns the summit looks proudly 
down upon the fertile plains stretching away southward to the far distant Apennines. 
Two small rivers, the Brembo and the Serio, flow to the east and west of the town, both 
tributaries of the Adda. The Brembo soon joins that river, while the Serio flows on to 
Crema on the Lodi road, and falls into the Adda some mUes further southward. 



BEllGAMO. 581 

When Venice was in her splendour, Bergamo belonged to the territory of the republic. 
It is now included in the government of Milan, and is the head town of a delegation 
containing upwards of thirty thousand inhabitants. There are fourteen churches, twelve 
monasteries, ten nunneries, and seven hospitals. Its trade is considerable, chieily in iron 
and silk. The principal productions of the province are wine, oil, and fruits ; vast 
plantations of mulberry- trees supply the silk- worms, which constitute the chief wealth of 
the country. The mountains aiford pasture to numerous flocks of sheep ; and many 
canals serve for the purpose of irrigation. 

One of the most remarkable buildings of Bergamo is the Fiera, in which the annual 
fair is held, beginning on the 24th of August, and lasting fourteen days. It is" a vast 
quadrangle, with three gates on each side, and courts and streets within ; it contains six 
hundred shops, in which all the various manufactures of Lombardy and other provinces 
of the Austrian empire are exposed for sale. During the fair of 1833, goods were sold 
to the amount of above one million sterling; one-third of the whole consisting of silk. 

The inhabitants have the reputation of being industrious and comparatively affluent. 
The town derives its chief importance from its manufactures. These are not so 
flourishing as formerly ; and disaffection to the Austrian government has naturally 
resulted from their decline. The dialect of the people is peculiar, and one of the most 
corrupt forms of the Italian dialect that is spoken in the country. The inhabitants of 
this border district differ also in their habits, and seem to partake of the character of 
mountaineers. Like the Comasques, they emigrate in great numbers ; and they are the 
GaUegos of Genoa. Bergamo has given birth to some eminent men. It was the paternal 
country of Tasso, being the birth-place of his father ; and the statue of the poet adorns 
the Piazza Grande. Tiraboschi, Maffei and the Abbe Serassi were also natives of 
Bergamo. It is an episcopal city, and its prelate had, formerly, the title of count. The 
cathedral is the most remarkable of the ecclesiastical edifices of Bergamo. In the church 
of St. Augustine is the tomb of Ambrosio Calepino, the lexicographer, who was a 
native of Calepio, near the lake of Iseo. The Academy of Painting contains several of 
the productions of Titian, Tintoretto, Giorgione, Paul Veronese, and other great masters. 
There are also several private galleries. Bergamo has a public librarj% a lyceum, a 
gymnasium for public instruction, and various educational establishments. 

At Ferrara,, the lover of literature will not fail to notice the house of Ai-iosto. His 
paternal dwelling is near the public library, and can be seen from one of the windows of 
the hall. But he bui^a house for himself in the Strada di Mirasola, which, as an 
inscription in one of ^^ chambers states, after being let to common occupiers, was 
purchased by the municipality of the town, and placed under the keeping of a person 
appointed for the purpose. In the chamber understood to have been the poet's study, is 
his bust. 

. The walls of this room seem to have been ornamented with frescoes, but a thin white- 
wash has been stupidly employed in the work of restoration. The house, like all in 
Ferrara, is a brick building ; it is of decent size, with an arched doorway, a court-yard 
behind, and indicative of comfort and respectability. It is one story high, with a 
disproportionate space between the upper windows and the roof, as in the ducal palace at 
Venice. 



CHAPTEE XL. 

THE LAKES OF LOMBAUDY GAEDA, COMO, MAGGIORE, AND LUGANO. 

In Lombardy there are two descriptions of lakes — those of iresli water, amongst the 
moimtains, and those of salt water, in the level country, on the borders of the Adriatic. 
At Desenzans, the traveller finds himself on the margin of one of the most beautiful of 
the former — the Lago di Garda, the stormy Penacus of the ancients, formed by the 
classic Mincio. This lake is reckoned about thirty-five miles in length, by about twelve 
in breadth. In some places, however, it is much broader ; and ancient authorities make 
its dimensions far more considerable. It is almost surroimded with the Alps, except at 
the southern extremity, where the luxuriant plain presents a striking contrast to the 
mountain scenery which closes round the upper waters. The fortress of Peschiera, built ' 
on the southern margin of the lake, just where the Mincio flows out of it, deep and clear, 
represents the ancient Ardelica, the scene of the celebrated interview between Attila and 
Saint Leo. At this village a boat may be procm-ed hy the traveller who is adventurous 
enough to tempt the dangers of the lake, which, when worked up by the storms to which 
it is liable, becomes as the sea. 

On the north-western shores of the lake, the peninsula of Sermione, celebrated as the 
favourite residence of Catullus, forms a beautiful feature of the scenery. At a distance, 
it looks like an island, being connected with the shore by only a very low tongue of land. 
On approaching it by water, the bold broken rock, shaded with olive trees, which forms 
its extremity, is seen finely rising above the village and picturesque Gothic fortress 
situated at its base. Some ruined walls upon the verge of the cliff' are believed to mark 
the site of the poet's rural retreat ; and through the ruined aj^es a striking view is 
obtained of the lake upon which he loved to gaze. From Eiva, at the head of the lake, 
a road leads through Arco to Trent. 

The lake of Como, the ancient Larian lake, is reckoned about fifty miles in length, by 
from three to six in breadth ; but it is of a very irregular figure, and may be ■ said to 
consist, in fact, of three distinct lakes, though with only one outlet. Its northern part, 
formed by the waters which descend from the Splugen by the Val San Giacomo, is called 
the Lago di Chiavenna, or di Eiva, from the town of that name, which is the port of 
Chiavenna. The navigation of this lake is dangerous, owing to shallows, which prevent 
the Como steam-boats from ascending above Gravedona ; but boats may be obtained at 
Eiva, by which travellers can descend to the lake of Como. The marshy shores of the 
lake of Eiva, as well as the mouth of the Adda, are infested with malaria to a fatal 
extent ; and no time should be lost by those who take the Splugen road, in hastenino' 
through this part of the route. The Adda pours the waters of the Valteline into the 
lake nearly opposite to Gravedona, at the head of what may be properly called the lake 
of Como, a little below the channel which connects it with the upper lake. From this 
point its waters spread in an unbroken, though rather winding course, as far as the point 
of Bellagio, by which the lake is divided, in an aciite angle, into two branches. The 



THE LAKE OF COMO. 



wider and larger branch, wliicli has no outlet, extends in a south-easterly direction to the 
town of Como ; the south-easterly branch is called the Lago di Lecco, from the town of 
that name, near which it begins graduaUj^ to narrow itseK into the Adda. The road which 
connects Lecco with Milan is called the Strada Militaria, being a continuation of the 
great military road of Stelvio, which is carried along the eastern shore of the lake of 
Como. 

Owing to the want of an outlet at Como, the waters of that branch are forced to return 
to the Point of Bellagio, and are thus subjected to constant interruption, either in their 
downward or their upward course, by the cross influence of the wind ; so that one side is 
frequently excessively agitated, while the other is perfectly calm. From this circum- 
stance, and from the vast height of the bordering mountaias, the navigation is rendered 
uncertain, and sometimes dangerous, by the violent swells and squalls to which it is 
particularly liable. Steam-boats, however, navigate the lake from one extremity to the 
other in four or five hours. The depth varies, according to Eustace, from forty to sis 
hundred feet. 

Throughout its extent, the banks of the lake are formed of precipitous mountains 
from two to three thousand feet in height ; in some places, overhanging the water, and 
in others, partially clothed with wood, and studded with hamlets, cottages, villas, chapels, 
and convents. But a vast extent of the scenery is bare ; for the woods, luxuriant and 
beautiful as they are on the immediate shores of the lake, bear but Ktfcle proportion to the 
bordering mountains, Avhere the crags and cliffs, partly from their excessive steepness, 
partly from the dryness of the soil, and the burning effect of Italian suns, nourish no 
vegetable production whatever, but present an aspect of glaring, arid whiteness. This 
defect prevails throughout the greater part of Alpine and Apennine scenery, and is 
particularly striking on the lakes of Como and Lugano. The most strUvingly beautiful 
point of view in the whole extent, is undoubtedly at Sellagio. The upper waters are 
here seen winding up to the very foot of the higher chain of the Alps, and terminating 
within a short distance of the terrific pass of the Splugen ; the loftier hills that border 
the lake of Lecco rise on one side, and on the other, the wider expanse of the lower lake 
retires behind the beautiful foreground, rocks and hanging woods that form the point of 
the Bellagio ; Avith numbers of trading boats gliding up under the broad reflection of the 
gigantic mountains, their white sails occasionally gleaming in the sunshine, and several 
little villages scattered along the shores. 

The Fiunie di Latte (so called from the milky colour of the water) is one of the 
wonders of the lake, being an intermittent stream, and, according to some Italian 
antiquaries, the one which the younger Pliny refers to as beiug in the neighbom-hood 
of his residence. Accordingly, the little village of Capuana, near which it is situated, has 
been supposed to occupy the site of the Plinian villa ; and the discovery of a mosaic 
pavement has been adduced as confirmation strong of the oj^iuiou. The fact is, that this 
stream answers in no respect to the intermittent spring described by the two Plinies. 
The Fiume di Latte intermits wholly during the winter, running only from March to 
September. It increases by degrees until it reaches its utmost height, and then decreases 
till its bed again becomes drj-. There seems to be no reason to doubt that its semi- 
annual course is occasioned by the melting of the snows in the higher mountains, though 
the length of the subterranean channel throxigh which it flows is unknown. Its 
excessive coldness is in favour of the supposition that it is fed by some distant 
glacier ; and its milky colour indicates that it has formed or forced a channel through 
some limestone or calcareous formation. It bursts forth with great impetuosity from 
its subterranean channel, tumbling down a broken declivity of nearly a thousand feet 
into the lake. 

There is, however, another intermittent spring of a very different description, which 



584 ITALY. 

seems to have better claims to be identified with the phenomenon referred to by Pliny, 
and of which Eustace gives the following account : " After doubling the verdant pro- 
montory of Tormo, in ascending the Como branch, they bent," he says, " towards the 
eastern bank of the lake, and landed at a villa to which the name oi PKniana has been 




THE DESCEST ON COMO. 



given, on' the presumption that its fountain is the one which Pliny has so minutely 
described. It is situated on the margin of the lake at the foot of a precipice, from which 
tumbles a cascade amid groves of beeches, poplars, ohesnuts, and cypresses. A serpentine 




LAKE OF COMO. 



walk leads through these groves, and discovers at every winding some new and beautiful 
view. The famous fountain bursts from the rock in a small court behind the house, and 
passing through the under story, falls into the lake. Pliny's description of it is inscribed 
in large characters in the hall, and it is still svipposed to give an accurate account of the 



THE LAKE OF CO.UO. 



585 



phenomenon. It is ratlier singular, that the intervals of the rise and fall of this spring 
should be stated differently by the elder and by the. younger Pliny, both of whom must 




'AraoLO— LAKE maggior: 



have had frequent opportunities of observing it. The former represents it as increasing 
and decreasing every hour ; the latter, thrice a day only. According to some modern 




LAKE MAGGIOEE — ISLANDS OF CANEN. 



observers, the ebb and flow are regular ; but the greater number, with the inhabitants of 
the house, assure us, that now, as in Pliny's time, it takes place usually thrice a day ; 



586 ITALY. 

usually, because, in very stormy and tempestuous weather, the fountain is said to feel the 
influence of the disordered atmosphere, and to vary considerably in its motions. This 
latter circumstance leads to the following conjectural explanation of the cause of this 
phenomenon : — 

" The west wind, which regularly blows upon the lake at twelve o'clock, or mid-day, 
begins at nine in the upper regions, or on the summits of the mountains. Upon these 
summits, and particularly that which rises behind the Pliniana, there are several cavities 
which penetrate into the bowels of the mountain, and communicate with certain internal 
reservoirs of water, the existence of which has been ascertained by various observations. 
Now, when the wind rushes down the cavities above mentioned, and reaches the water, it 
ruffles its waves against the sides of the cavern, where, just above its ordinary level, there 
are little fissures. The water, raised by the impulse which it receives from the wind, 
rises to these fissures, and trickles doTi^n through the crevices that commujiicate with the 
fountain below, and gradually fills it. In stormy weather the water is impelled with 
greater violence, and flows in greater quantities, till it is nearly exhausted, or, at least, 
reduced too low to be raised again to the fissures. Hence, on such occasions the fovmtain 
fills with rapidity first, and then dries up, or rather, remains low till the reservoir regains 
its usual level, and, impelled by the wind, begins to ebb again. Such is the explanation 
given by the Abate Carlo Amoretti." "With this explanation we must content om'selves ; 
but whether, after all, this is the classic fountain, seems to be questionable. Eustace 
asserts, that the situation of the Pliniana does not correspond to either of the two 
favourite retreats described by Pliay, and that we are left at a loss to guess at the 
particular spots to which he alludes. 

Among the numerous villas and villages which adorn the beautiful bays and promon- 
tories of the lower lake, this traveller* mentions "Lenna, Avhere, some years ago, a 
subterranean temple was discovered, with a marble statue of Diana, and on the very 
margin of the lake Villa, which took its name, Avithout doubt, from the mansion which 
formerly occupied the same spot, and which seems to have been of great extent and 
magnificence, as remains of pillars are discernible, in calm weather, under the water close 
to the shore. Some antiquaries suppose this to be the real site of Pliny's viUa : he could 
not have chosen a more beautiful spot, nor, if we may believe the general opinion, a more 
genial climate." This is on the western shore of the Como branch, a little below the 
little bay of Trammezina. 

The population of Como appears to be very variously estimated. By Mr. Eustace and 
Mr. Pennington, the inhabitants are rated at 18,000 or 20,000. The situation is so fiaie, 
and the air is deemed so sahibrious, that, during the summer months, many families 
retire to its neighbourhood ; and it has become a sort of watering-place. About three 
miles and a half from Como, on the western shore of the lake, is the Adllage of D'Este, 
for some time the property and residence of the imhappy woman who, was the wife of 
King George IV., and whose history it is now needless to revive. It was afterwards 
the property of an eminent banker of Rome. Large sums were expended oil this 
spacious mansion ; noble offices were erected for servants ; a handsome theatre was built, 
and an excellent road made to Como. Its subsequent appearance, however, was that of 
melancholy desolation. The theatre and grounds were quite neglected, and nothing- 
remained to mark its former splendour and gaiety, but the inscription, " Villa d'Este," 
in large characters in front of the villa. 

" The interior of the town of Como," says Lady Morgan, "exhibits dark, narrow, and 
filthy streets ; churches numerous, old, and tawdry ; some dreary palaces of the Comasque 
nobles, and dismantled dwellings of the cittadini. The Duomo, foimded in 1396, and . 

* Eustace. 



THE LAKE MAGGIOKE. 687 

coustructed witli marbles from tlie neigjiboming quarries, is its great featiu'e. It stands 
happily with respect to the lake, but is surrounded with a small square of low, mouldering 
arcades and paltry little shops. Its baptistry is ascribed to Bramante ; but the archi- 
tecture is so mixed and semi-barbarous, that it recalls the period when the arts began to 
revive in all the fantastic caprice of unsettled taste. Everywhere the elegant Gothic is 
mingled with the grotesque forms of ruder orders ; and basso-relievos of monsters and non- 
descripts disfigure a facade, where light Gothic pinnacles are surmounted with golden 
crosses ; while the fine pointed arch and clustering columns contrast with staring saints and 
grinning griffins. . . . The interior of this ancient edifice has all the venerable 
character of the remote ages in which it rose and was completed. But its spacious nave, 
Gothic arches, and lofty dome, its masses of dark marbles and deep-tinted frescoes, are 
contrasted with such oflferings from the piety and gratitude of the devout Comasques, 
and the inhabitants of the neighbouring mountains, as would better suit the stalls of the 
Rue de Friperie, or the warerooms of Monmouth-street." 

The ancient importance of Como is testified by its double walls and massy towers ; 
and its present consequence, in the eyes of its imperial masters, is indicated by its 
fortified barriers, manned with legions of Austrian soldiers, custom-house officers, and 
police ; by its garrison, and by the shutting of its gates at an early hour of the night. 
Como was once the seat of the Inquisition. The forms and the power of that terrible 
tribunal have passed away ; but something of its spirit still seems to cling to its ancient 
shade, and the race of its familiars appears not to be quite extinct. 

The noble collection of waters, called Lake Maggiore, rivals in beauty the loveliest 
of the world. Language might exhaust itself in searching for epithets to describe the 
exquisite clearness of its waves, the sylvan grandem' of its verdant scenes, or the varied 
aspect which its vast and lovely panorama presents of green solitudes and smiKng 
villages ; of woods where silence and meditation love to dwell ; and villas the resort of all 
that is bright and elegant in social life. 

The ancient name of this magnificent piece of water was Lacus Verbanus, an appella- 
tion for which antiquaries are at a loss to account, some ascribing it to the vernal 
sweetness of the air upon its shores, and others supposing it to be derived from the name 
of some village in the neighbourhood. Its present title of Maggiore is also accounted 
for in different ways by various writers ; some of them believing that it was originally 
so described for the great accommodation it affords the inhabitants of the country for 
carrying on their trade ; and others, with a far better show of reason, asserting that it 
is so termed on account of its being the largest lake in Italy. According to the 
measurement adopted by Paolo Morigia, it is forty-five miles, in length and seven in 
width at its broadest part. The only lakes which come in competition with it are those 
of Como and Garda. But the former of these is only thirty-seven miles and a half long, 
and between four and five broael. The latter is wider than the Lago Maggiore, being 
from fourteen to fifteen miles across, but considerably shorter, its length being about the 
same as that of Como. 

The, celebrity, however, of Lago Maggiore does not depend entirely either on the 
beauty of the scenery which adorns its shores, or on its superiority in extent to the other 
lakes of Italy. The number of bishops, archbishops, preachers, and doctors who first saw 
the light in this district is incalculable ; and, to complete the fame of the lago, it has 
been scarcely inferior in the production of great captains and statesmen, so that 
Morigia, perhaps, speaks truth when he says that it has ever been celebrated as the 
birth-place of men signalised in every kind of virtue, and qualified for every species of 
high design, in letters, arms, and science. 

The air, which constantly breathes with a gentle warmth, seems tempered by nature 
expressly to keep the banks always covered with verdure, the waters always sparkling 



and pure, and the groves ever cool and fragrant. Nor is the land a churlish receiver of 
the fertilising dews which the lake furnishes from her hosom. The vine and the olive 
flourish on its banks in almost unexampled luxuriousness ; and groves of cedars and 
lemons, with all the delicious and odorous shrubs of more southern lands, give to the 
country, when seen from the lake, the appearance of a flowery wilderness, only here and 
there broken and diversified by some small and fairy temple. 




The island known by the name of Isola EeUa is usually considered as the most beau- 
tiful, and has been described as "a pyramid of sweetmeats, ornamented with green 
festoons and flowers;" a simile which Mr. Hazlitt said he once conceived to be a heavy 
German conceit, but which he afterwards found to be a Kteral description. The cha- 
racter of this fertile little island may be hence easily imagined. It consists of eight 



THE lAKE OF LUG.iJsO. 



terraces rising one above another, eacli of which is thickly covered with foliage of the 
richest hues and fragrance, while stout branching forest trees spread their arras over these 
exquisite and delicate gardens, and small silvery fountains stream continually down the 
id lose themselves in the lake. From the midst of this natural furniture of 




Isola Bella rises a beautiful palace, the rooms of which contain several paintings by Peter 
Molyn, commonly called Tempesta. 

The historj' of this painter is as dark and melancholy as that of any of his race. He 
was a native of Haerlem, and was born in the j'ear 1637. The earliest efforts of his 



genius were employed in copying tlie liunting pieces of tlie celetoated animal painter 
Fr. Snyders, but he soon became discontented -with, tbis brancb of bis art. His mind, 
passionate and imagiaative, ceased to take any deligbt in tbe milder scenes of nature, or 
in representations wbicb could amuse men of a less warm or licentious disposition. 
Leaving tbe baunts in wbicb be bad before looked for tbe subjects of bis pencil, be 
sougbt tbe loneliest woods and beatbs within his reach, and there, or on tbe shore of the 
sea, would pass whole hours listening with breathless anxiety for the first murmur of tbe 
tempest, tbe signs of which bad attracted him from home. It was in tbe midst of the 
storm that bis mind appeared to acquire tbe highest degree of strength and activity of 
which it was capable ; and, having treasured up the images with which bis excited fancy 
and the tempest bad supplied him, be would return to his study, and execute pictures 
of storms and shipwrecks, of wbicb it would be difiicult, perhaps, to say whether they 
were more calculated to excite a feeling of the sublime or simple terror. The power of 
his genius was thus sufficiently striking to obtain him very extensive popularity, and be 
received tbe name of Tempesta, as tbe artist of tbe whirlwind and tbe storm. But, not 
satisfied with tbe praises of bis own district, be travelled through Holland, and studied 
with care the works of tbe most distinguished masters of his country. Having by these 
means considerably improved bis style, be set out for Italy, and settled himself at 
Rome. 

There bis abilities attracted the notice of several men of rank and eminence, and he 
found himself rapidly advancing to the highest station in his profession, in tbe very city 
wbicb bad fostered Michael Angelo and Raffaelle, and which was still full of memorials 
of their greatness. It is not easy to tell how much influence this must have had on tbe 
ambitious and enthusiastic disposition of Tempesta ; but the dreams of ambition and tbe 
weakness of bis mind united to give Eome and all it contained an irresistible power over 
bis thoughts, and he renounced tbe protestant faith, in wbicb be bad been brought up, 
and embraced tbe catholic system. 

This conversion of the artist was regarded by the principal persons at Rome with 
acknowledged satisfaction, and the Count Bracciano almost immediately after became bis 
warm and munificent patron. The increased employment wbicb be now found for bis 
pencil appears to have prevented him from indulging himself in the enjoyment of bis 
capricious fancy, to the neglect of tbe more customary exercise of tbe art, and bis 
paintings of landscapes and animals were sougbt for with avidity by his numerous and 
wealthy admirers. Thus successful in acquiring reputation, his fortune rapidly increased, 
and he was enabled to live in a style of magnificence resembling that of the best and 
most prosperous of bis predecessors. His patrons, moreover, not content with contri- 
buting to bis afiluence, emploj^ed their interest to obtain him personal honours, and be 
was dignified with a chain of gold, and the high sounding title of Cavaliere, after 
acquii'ing which bo removed to Genoa. 

Biit the consequences of this prosperity were ruinous to a man of Tempesta's character ; 
bis feelings, naturally vehement and licentious, gained strength with every advance be 
made in wealth and influence ; and a circumstance at length occurred, which broke down 
tbe slight barrier which had ever existed, to prevent tbeii- bursting forth in a torrent of 
destructive passion. He had, at the period of which we are speaking, been some time 
married, but a separation having taken place between him and bis wife, he allowed bis 
afi'ections to become tbe sport of every object to which they might be casually attracted. 
While in this unsettled state, he chanced to meet with a lady whose beauty inspired him 
with a deeper passion than he bad experienced for tbe other objects of bis dissolute 
intrigues, and finding his advances repulsed with virtuous indignation, his love became 
in an instant characterised by tbe wild, dark, and desper.ite disposition wbicb was bis 
striking characteristic. 



TEMPESTA, THE PAINTER. 591 

Finding at last tliat neither entreaty, nor all tlie resources of the most cunning 
intrigue, availed anything with the young and lovely Genoese, he desisted from his 
dishonourable importunity, and pretended, with contrition, to demand her in marriage ; 
hut he was again repulsed ; his union with the Roman lady, whom he had espoused some 
time before, was known to some persons at Grenoa, and when he pressed his suit, the 
friends of the signorina sUenced his applications by confronting him with the disagreeable 
information that they were acquainted with his state. Furious with disappointment, 
Tempesta sought his home, ready for the darkest deeds, in order to effect the one wild 
purpose which wholly occupied his soul. After communing with himself for some time 
in the retirement of his chamber, he went forth in the same gloomy mood in which he 
was accustomed to leave the forest and the cliff, after witnessing a storm and the ruin of 
the fairest objects in nature. He bent his steps to the house of a man in whom he had 
discovered, by the intuitive penetration of such minds as his, a recklessness and villany 
of disposition, which wo\ild fit him for the execution of his design. 

Having explained to this person the object of his visit, and found him open to his 
wishes, he sat down and penned a letter to his wife, full of affectionate expressions, and 
repeated assurances that he was sighing in painful solitude for her company. He knew 
that the heart of the innocent and much injured Bianca would leap with delight at the 
prospect of reconciliation with her husband, whom she most tenderly loved, and, trusting 
to this, he sent the letter by his accomplice, with whom Bianca was directed to hasten 
immediately to Genoa. The event turned out as he expected. His wife was in ecstasies 
of joy at heariag of the return of his affections, and, without delay, set out with the 
messenger for Genoa. But Genoa she was destined never to reach. On the road the 
villain by whom she was accompanied stabbed her to the heart, and she perished, as it 
was supposed, unnoticed by any earthly eye. It was, however, not so. Tempesta was 
suspected, apprehended, found guilty, and sentenced to be hung ; but the interest of his 
friends was sufficient to save him from an ignominious death, and his sentence was changed 
into one of perpetual imprisonment. For sixteen years he lay in close confinement in 
one of the cells of the common prison, his mind retaining all its wonted activity, and his 
skill as well as his imagination becoming every year more and more conspicuous. He 
would, there is little doubt, have remained to the end of life in confinement, but for the 
bombardment of Genoa by Louis XIV., when the prisons were set open, and he escaped 
to the Borromean Islands. This remarkable man closed his evil but distinguished career 
in 1701, and his paintings, which are rarely to be met with out of Italy, are highly 
valuable. 

The Lake of Lugano (Lacus Ceresius), which lies to the eastward of the Lago Maggiore, 
is scarcely less picturesque, but is of a different character. The moimtains are rugged 
and abrupt, generally rising from the water's edge ; but, at the bottom of each of its six 
bajrs, they recede, and leave cultivated vaUeys. The lower part of the slopes is covered 
Avith vines and oKve-trees, and spotted with villages wherever they are not too steejD to 
admit of it. In other places they are clothed with wood ; and the upper parts are all 
woody, except where the perpendicular rocks prohibit vegetation. Two of the crags, San 
Salvador and Val Soda, are particularly fine. This lake is twenty-five miles in length, 
but its average breadth does not exceed a niiLe and a half. Its depth throughout is very 
great, in some parts unfathomable. The most beautiful part is the bay of Lugano, at the 
head of which the little city of that name is situated, and which is so deeply indented as 
almost to form an arm of the lake. One side stretches out into a beautifully verdant and 
cultivated poiat ; the other is formed by an abrupt conical mountain, crowned with the 
little chapel of San Salvador. Rich woods sweep round behind the city, covering a 
gentle elevation; and far behind in the distance rise the Lepontine Alps, with the 
glaciers of the Simplon, and above all, the towering summit of Monte Rosa. Mr. 



592 1T.U.Y. 

Broekendon styles the Lake of Lugano "the most beautiful of the northern lakes of 
Italy." - 

Lugano, from which the lake take its name, now belongs to the Swiss canton of Ticinoi 





LAKE OF COMO, AND THE SPLUGEN KOAD. 



or the Tessin, composed of the former bnilUages of Locarno, Eellinzona, Mindizio (the 
most southern town of the Helvetic confederacy), and Lugano. The boundaries of the 
gOA'ernment and the Swiss canton cross the lake several times. Porlezza, the 



LUGANO. 593 

frontier town of Italy in this direction, is built beneath an impending cliif at the head of 
the lake, about twelve miles above the ba}'. Lugano is, alternately with Bellinzona and 
Locarno, the seat of government for the canton. It is, however, onlj^ nominally or 
politicall)^ S\^'iss. In dress, manners, language, and appearance, the natives are Italian ; 




^lll^^tf 



GATii Of COMO. 



in everything, in fact, but their superior activity and enterprise. Their little city has a 
thriving, bustling air, answering to the character and pursuits of its inhabitants, and 
carries on a considerable commerce in silk, woollen stuffs, and wine. It also traffics 
largely in books ; for here the press is free, and its frontier situation insures a ready sale 




DLhCEM ON JI.4&.\DI^0. 



for all works interdicted in Italy. The women here have a graceful fashion (common, 
indeed, throughout the northern parts of the country), of fastening up the hair at the 
back of the head with a star of pins. Goitrous complaints are, unhappily, scarcely less 
prevalent in this canton, and the neighboiu'ing mountain district, than in the Valais itself. 

2 Q 



594 ITALY. 

The facilities tov ii'rigation in the best districts have been much increased by the 
consti'uction of canals, which, whilst thej"- serve the purpose of inland navigation, are 
made use of to convey streams of water over the fields, which pass from the property of 
one proprietor to that of another, till they enter again the canals at a lower level. Some 
of these canals are the work of remote ages. 

The most ancient as well as the most considerable of these is the Narkjlio Grande, 
which was opened in the year 1270. The water is conveyed to the Ticino, near Torna- 
vento, and proceeds to Abbiategrasso, a distance of eighteen miles, where it divides into 
two branches. One of these is conducted to Beneguardo, eleven miles, and the other to 
Milan, fourteen miles, thus making a line of forty-three English miles. 

This great undertaldng was commenced after the death of Charlemagne, just as the 
cities of Lombardy began to be constituted independent states, about the year 1177, and 
in a few years was executed to Abbiategrasso. It was extended to Milan by 1257, but 
was then only adapted to the purpose of irrigation. It was afterwards widened, and thus 
rendered navigable, at the expense of the city of Milan, which, within that period, had 
become the capital of a rich dukedom, and hj the water communication it thus obtained, 
flourished, in a great degree from its commerce, as well as from the rich fields, which the 
waters had rendered highly productive. 

Another canal, known as Nnovo Naviglio di Pavia, passes from Milan to Pavia, through 
Benasco, and there falls into the Adda, a little above the junction of that river with the 
Po. This undertaking was completed in 1819, after the labour of five years. The 
quantitj' of goods conveyed by it, and the quantity of water supplied by it to the neigh- 
bouring fields, have secured a large profit to the operators, and conferred a great additional 
value on lands in its vicinity. 

An ancient law in Lombardy has contributed, from the most remote period, to the 
extended distribution of water. The whole of that substance was the property of the 
sovereign. An individual, or a corporate body, might piirchase the water, and thereby 
acquii'e a right to conduct it by canals in any direction, and then to sell it to the culti- 
vators. But they could not carry it through gardens or pleasure-grounds, and were 
bound to pay the owners of the land the valxie of that portion which was made use of for 
the passage of the water. 

In process of time, the right of the sovereign over the water was ceded to those who 
became the purchasers thereof, and it was at length extended to those who had springs 
on their groimd, or should afterwards discover any. One instance shows the exercise of 
this right. An individual found a spring on a small piece of ground, seventeen miles 
from the main bulk of his property, and conducted the water from one to the other, over 
the lands of a vast number of proprietors. As all judicious people foresaw, he was 
ruined bj^ the enterprise, instead of making money by selling his water near the spring, 
as he ought to have done ; yet the law proceedings which arose confirmed his right. 



CHAPTEE XLI. 



■THE CITY OF MILAN. 



It is cliiRcult to account for tlie choice originally made of tlie site occupied by Milan, 
while, on cither side, the Adda or the Ticino, and in front the Po, offer the convenience 
of navigable rivers, and while such beautiful situations might have been selected on the 
sliores of the neighbouring lakes. The city stands on a dead flat, in the midst of a vast 
plain, and is indebted for its commercial advantages to the fine canals which vrero cut 
from the Ticino in the twelfth century, and from the Adda in the fifteenth. Yet, so early 
as the days of Strabo, it was a flourishing city. Ausonius, towards the end of the fourth 
century, ranks it as the sixth town in the Roman empire ; while Procopius, a century 
and a half later, speaks of MecUoIamim as inferior only to Rome in population and extent. 
It was founded by the Insubrian Gauls, as the capital of their territory, which lay between 
the Ticino and the Adda. The capture of it by Cornelius Scipio and Marcellus (a.c. 
221) was folio wed, by the submission of that powerful tribe; and the conquered city 
seems to have retained ever since the honours of a metropolis. In the time of Virgil, 
Mediolanum was the Athens of ISTorthern Italy. Scarcely any city in Italy has been 
subject to greater vicissitudes than Milan. At one time it was the capital of the western 
empire, several of the later emperors having made it their residence ; and here, in 303, 
Coustantine subscribed the famous edict securing to the Christians the free exercise of 
their religion. 

A prince, however, who is ambitious of a long and splendidly emblazoned genealogy, 
is seldom in want of historians or poets ready to gratify him in his wish. The chronicles, 
therefore, of the Visoonti are not wanting in that species of political allegory which 
favours the dreaming of imagination so necessary to keep up the kind of self-deception on 
which the pride of ancestry depends. Thus it is related, that in the j^ear 400, a 
pestiferous dragon existed in the neighbourhood of Milan, which bore destruction to the 
inhabitants, both by its fiery breath and its daring invasion of their retreats. The home 
of this dreadful monster, according to the tradition, was in a solitaiy, savage thicket, 
which covered the spot on which at present stands the church of St. Dionigi. From this 
gloomy lair he was accustomed to come forth into the peopled parts of the town, diifusing 
pestilence as he stole along with heavy tread, and devouring all who crossed his path. 
For a considerable time, the terrified citizens remained sunk in the .stupor of despair. 
No one thought of encountering the monster, any more than he would have thought of 
combating with a storm, daring the fury of iEtna, or defying the plague. Silence and 
terror reigned throughout the place. The streets were deserted, the doors of the houses 
closed ; and, when a traveller from some distance chanced to pass through, his heart sank 
at the melancholy aspect of the city, and he hurried on, deeming that a pestilence had 
swept away the people, and that the houses were filled with the dying or the dead. This 
was the state of the town even by day, but, when the evening fell, it had a still more 

2 Q g 



dreadful appearance ; for through every window streamed the small trembling ray of the' 
watch-Ughts which were kept dimly burning throughout the niglrt. 

In the streets, the crosses which had been erected against the doors were seen glimmer- 
ing amid the tapers which were placed around them, but which, being left untrimmed, 
only served to make the darkness and silence of night more gloomy. The only signs 
which existed that any living being remained in the city appeared in the vicinity of the 
old, solemn-looking cathedral. The lights placed round its high altar were numerous as 
on a grand festival day of the church, and every nook of its aisles and cloisters shone 
with the tapers and offerings with which the citizens had adorned them. Through the 
high-arched and painted windows of the building, the mingled stream of these numerous 
lights might be seen flickering like the red uncertain rays of a northern meteor, and with 
as strange and unnatural a beauty. The inhabitants of the neighbourhood, as they 
occasionally peeped from their iron casements, crossed themselves with redoubled earnest- 
ness whenever they beheld their cathedral ; but at the hour of midnight, and after the 
city had remained throughout the long day and half of the night hushed in melancholy 
silence, its heavy repose was suddenly broken by the loud and solemn peals of the 
" Miserere," which burst from the lips of a hundred choristers at the altar, was repeated by 
the crowds of suppliants that filled the aisles, and was re-echoed from every house in 
which two or three trembling citizens with their families were gathered together, to 
encourage and comfort each other in their sorrow. 

Several successive days and nights passed away in this manner, and terror was 
beginning to be a worse enemy than the tyrannic monster which occasioned it; the 
business of life was altogether at a stand ; the fruits of the field fell un gathered, and were 
left to rot on the ground ; the cattle, forgotten by their keepers, sank famished in their 
stalls, and the flocks, which had been penned by their terrified shepherds, bleated in vain 
for the pasture. Even the calls of charity reached only deaf ears ; such was the effect of 
fear on the people, who had ever hitherto been compassionate. The 'sick and the aged, 
who had no friends in their own homes, cried in vain for the help of their accustomed 
visitors ; and, as a still greater instance of the terror which prevailed, when a cry was 
heard in the streets from some miserable creature, whose temerity had exposed him to 
the dragon, there was no one who durst go forth from his house to help him. 

Such was the condition of the city and the neighbouring district, when the brave and 
magnanimous Uberto Yisconti formed the noble resolution of attempting the destruction 
of the cruel monster by his single arm. Clothing himself, therefore, in a coat of mail, 
and taking his sword and shield with which he had performed prodigies in battle, he 
prepared to proceed without attendant to the lair of the dragon. The night was far 
advanced when the perilous design entered his mind, and his youthfid wife sank on her 
knees, in an agony of despair, to dissuade him from the enterprise ; but he was resolved, 
and, disengaging himself from her embrace, ordered the porter at the gate to withdraw 
the bolts. As he stepped into the streets, the chilliness and gloom -^vhich prevailed in 
the air had the effect of occasioning a momentary depression in his spirits, and he paused 
to commend himself again to heaven. He then resumed his way, and, as he passed the 
cathedral, the midnight anthem burst upon his ear Avith deep and unusual solemnity. 
The " Miserere " thrilled through his bosom as if it were the appeal of a whole people 
to heaven for his safety. The same feeling was rendered still stronger as he hastened 
along the streets and heard the same sounds repeated, though with low and faltering 
voices, in almost every house he passed. At length he approached the monster's 
retreat. The grave of a person long out of mind is scarcely so silent as was that 
melancholy spot. The air was wet as with a heavy rain, but no drops fell, and no 
pattering was heard either among the trees or on the earth. The air itself seemed 
dead — it was moist, cold, and motionless. Uberto would have sank to the ground, but 



I'BEETO \'ISCOKTI. 



697 



he roused himself by striking his sword briskly and heavily on his shield. The clang 
of the weapon seemed to startle the country for miles around, and the warrior, awakened 
to new life, firmly awaited the coming of the monster. It soon approached him ; huge, 
grim, and horrible, such as the poets have described all of the same progenj' ; and the 




conflict between TJberto and him was, in all its points, like that waged between other 
knights and tyrant dragons of later ages. It is sufficient for the purposes of the 
Visconti genealogists that TJberto gained the victory, and that the city of Milan was 
restored by his means to its former state of tranquillity. 

Other early heroes of the same race performed deeds of valour equally renowned, and 



598 ITALY. 

of a less suspicious character. The celebrated Aliprando Visconti, the sou of Obi?;zo, was 
made general of militia by the Archbishop Gribert, and at the head of his little band 
defied for many months the whole strength of the imperial forces under Conrad II. 
Eight thousand Germans fell beneath the swords of the Milanese on that occasion, and 
Aliprando himself, not content with the general triumph of his arms, challenged to single 
combat a German of extraordinary strength and stature, named Bavers, and who was 
nephew to the emperor. The conflict took place under the walls of the city, and, coming 
to swords, Aliprando speedily despatched his enemy, after which he cut off his head and 
carried it with his armour in triumph into Milan, Avhere he Avas hailed as the father of 
his country. 

The son of this prince inherited his valour, and was chosen, on account of this and his 
other virtues, to lead the seven thousand Milanese who had taken the vows of crusaders 
to the Holy Land. Some time after the arrival of the army before Jerusalem, and while 
they were preparing for the siege, a Saracen of gigantic form was seen to cross the 
Jordan, and defy anj' of the Christian soldiers to single combat. The strength of this 
warrior, it appears, had become a theme of common conversation among the faithful, and 
no one seemed willing to accept the challenge, till the son of Aliprando stepped forth and 
oiFered'to support the honour of the Christian armj^ against the taunts of the infidel. 
The combat was long and fierce, but the ardour of the Milanese lord prevailed, and the 
Saracen fell dead beneath his sword. The fame of this and other similar deeds raised the 
heroes of Milan to the higliest rank among the warriors of Italy, and poetry and 
romance uniting their efforts with signorial vanity, it became an easy matter for the 
lords of later days to decorate their genealogies as they chose. 

When Italy was overrun by the barbarians, in the fifth and sixth centuries, Milan was 
nearly ruined. In the year 538, it was taken and destroyed by the Eurgundians, but it 
revived in about thirty years. When, in 898, Berengarius established his sovereignty over 
the Milanese, he fixed his court at Pavia. In the following century, Milan first fell under 
the i30wer of the German emperors, being taken by Otho I. ; but it afterwards recovered its 
independence under its archbishop, or Italian princes of its own election ; and when the 
Emperor Henry IV., in 1110, invaded Italy, it refused its homage, and successfully defied 
the conqueror. When, however, in 1158, the infamous Frederick Barbarossa invested the 
city, it was compelled to capitulate, and to submit to the loss of its independence. In 
1162, its citizens having incurred that emperor's displeasure, Milan was besieged, and 
on being taken, is said to have been totally destroj^ed, Avith the exception of the sacred 
edifices. A few j^ears afterwards, the scattered popiilation, on the withdrawment of the 
imperial army, returned, and rebuilt the city, rej^airing the fortifications ; and Milan, 
with all the cities of the north of Italj^, except Pavia, entered into a league against their 
ruthless oppressor, known under the name of the " Lombard League." A signal victory 
gained over the imperial army, May 29, 1176, completely re-established the Milanese 
power. The state continued, however, to acknowledge the supremacy of the emperor. 

In the thirteenth century the city was governed by a podesta, a sort of mayor, invested 
Avith absolute authority, but whose reign lasted only for a year. The title of captain- 
general was subsequently assmned by the powerful chiefs Vi'ho obtained the nomination 
to this high office, and the period was extended to five years. The Viaconti and the 
Torriani long struggled for the ascendancy. At length, the former obtained the complete 
sovereignty as lords of Milan, with the office of imperial vicar in Milan and Lombardy^ 
Of twelve sovereigns of this house, the last three only reigned luider the title of Duke of 
Milan. The house of Sforza succeeded to the dukedom in 1450, in virtue of a marriage 
alliance, and it was the fourth duke of this family who was deprived of his possessions 
and his liberty by Louis XII. 

He was not, strictly speaking, the last duke, for Maximilian Sforza was , installed by 



wiLAN. ^ 599 

the Swiss into tlie duchj^, with great ceremony and pomp, in 1512, and held it for three 
j'ears. The battle of Marignano gave it into the hands of Francis I. ; and Maximilian is 
said to have thanked the conqueror for delivering him at once from the arrogance of the 
Swiss, the rapacitj^ of the emperor, and the artifices of the Spaniards. The battle of 
Pavia, in Februarj', 1525, in Avhich the French monarch lost all but his honour, was 
followed by the temporary establishment of Francis Sforza, the brother of Maximilian, in 
the duchy of Milan ; but the detection of an intrigue in which he was implicated, which 
had for its object to overturn the emperor's power in Italj--, afforded Charles a fair 
occasion for depriving him of the nominal sovereignty. In 1584, he invested his son, 
Philip II., with the duchy ; and it continued to be attached to the crown of Spain till 
1706, when the Spanish branch of the house of Austria became extinct. It then reverted 
to the German emperor, and continued to be governed by Austrian viceroys, till the 
battle of Marengo rendered the French once more the masters of Northern Italy. 

In 1796, Lombardy received from the conqueror a constitution modelled on republican 
forms ; and Milan was declared the capital of the Cisalpine republic. He- conquered and 
held for a few months by the imperialists, it was soon recovered by the French ; and in 
1800, the form of a free government was restored, with the title of the Italian Republic. 
The name of Republic was soon set aside by another change, when the Emperor of the 
French assumed the iron crown ; and Milan became the capital of the new kingdom of 
Italy, and the residence of the viceroy, Eugene Beauharnois. On the fall of Napoleon, 
Milan once more came under the house of Austria, and it is still the seat of government, 
as the capital of the Lombardo- Venetian kingdom. 

The present city must be considered as dating from the twelfth century, and its general 
architecture bears the marks of its importance in the middle ages. The old palaces, 
vast and rude, indicate their purpose as the domestic fortresses of turbulent times. Of 
its Roman antiquities, only the sites of thermce and temples, and a fine portico called the 
Colonnade of Saint Lorenzo, remain. Under the viceroys of the Spanish and Austrian 
governments, the city gained nothing, and lost much. Churches and convents multiplied, 
but its magnificent cathedral remained unfinished : its noble canal, the wonder of the ago 
in which it was constructed, was choked and fell to ruin. The military edifices, raised for 
the subjugation of the people under Charles, fell or stood, as time spared, or storms demo- 
lished them. The palace, inhabited by the delegated sovereigns from Madrid or Vienna, 
remained, down to the Revolution, much as the Sforzas had left it. The high-walled 
gardens of monasteries choked the suburbs, and impeded ventilation. Cemeteries in the 
heart of the city frequentlj- produced contagious maladies. Markets rose in the courts 
of the noblest palaces. The relics of Roman antiquities were sufiered to perish from 
neglect ; and the old narrow" streets, which, by their original construction, excluded light 
and air, were still further impeded bj^ sheds erected at pleasure before the shops. At 
night, they were ill-lighted by paper lanterns, few and far between. But, under the 
emperor," continues his zealous panegyrist. Lady Morgan, " streets were cleared, avenues 
opened, palaces raised, and cleanliness and general accommodation universally promoted." 
This representation may be a little tinged with the writer's partiality; but it is at least 
true, and not a little remarkable, that it was reserved for Napoleon to complete the fa9ade 
of the sumptuous temple, founded by the first duke, continued by the munificence of 
St. Charles Borromeo, and still imfinished when Milan became the second capital of the 
sovereigns of France and Italy. 

Of all the buildings, ancient d§ modern, the Cathedral is, unquestionably, the most 
remarkable. The present building was foimded in 1385, by order of John Galeazzo, 
first Duke of Milan. He died in 1102, and it is probable that most of the old work was 
performed during this intervaL This church was not, however, consecrated till 1418,' 
when the ceremony was performed bv Pope Martin V. About the middle of the 



sixteenth century, St. Charles Borroraeo undertook to complete the edifice, and employed 
Pellegrini to design a suitable front. This architect is said to have conceived the idea 
of so engrafting upon Gothic the beauties of Grecian architecture, as to make a 
harmonious whole out of the discordant materials. If such were his endeavours, we 
need not wonder that he did not succeed. A part only of his design was executed by 
the direction of Cardinal Frederic Borromeo, the cousin and successor of St. Charles in 
the archbishopric of Milan; and this part has been suffered to stand, although the 
completion of the rest of the facade, in a style imitated from the Gothic, has served to 
make its utter discordance with the rest of the building much more obtrusive. Pelle- 
grini's plan was to place ten Corinthian columns in front ; but, to judge from what is 
done, and from the three stories of windows of uneqvial elevation, he could hardlj^ have 
proposed to unite them in a simple portico. The mouldings and ornaments were all of 
Roman architecture. Of this design the columns were never erected ; but the five 
doorways, and as many windows over them, are preserved as parts of the present 
composition. Two other windows of this design are concealed by Gothic tracery. The 
remainder, which is only just finished, is imitated from the old work ; but the architect 
(Amati), by Grecising the ornaments, and cutting the upright mouldings, has failed as 
signally in the details, as in the general composition. 

"Separating the old work," says Mr. Wood, " from its injudicious additions, and consi- 
dering it only as a portion of an unfinished building, the exterior is very rich and very beau- 
tiful, with its parts well composed arid well combined. The pinnacles rise gracefully from 
the general line, and are richly ornamented with subordinate pinnacles and statues ; and 
the workmanship is very good. One may imagine what a sumptuous edifice it would 
have been, with two lofty western towers, and a light and highly decorated lantern in the 

centre Abstractedly from their want of suitable character, the modern ornaments 

are poorer in design than the ancient, and inferior in execution. At present, the ancient 
part of the lantern is surmounted by a slender steeple, whose outline is that of a column 
supporting a spire. This was added by Brunelleschi (employed by Philip, the son of 
John Galeazzo, who reigned from 1412 to 1447), and it is astonishing that, living so 
nearly in the time of the Gothic architects, he should have been so deficient in under- 
standing the character of their architecture. The front is a mere triangle, and exces- 
sively poor. The artists, among them, have contrived to produce a Gothic building, of 
which the outline, contemplated as a simple mass without the details, is everywhere 
displeasing. Another remarkable circumstance is, the want of apparent size. That it 
does not look very high (although the head of the figure which crowns the spire, is 
360 feet from the pavement), maj^, perhaps, be attributed to its actual magnitude. Yet, 
in the distant view, whore the lower part of the building is lost, it docs not suggest the 
idea of a lofty edifice; and the front, although extending 200 feet, almost looks little. 
Perhaps this may arise in some degree from the style of the Italian houses, which are so 
much larger and loftier than ours. The following are the principal dimensions : — 
Length, internally, 493 feet ; whole width, 177 feet ; length of transept, including the 
chapels, 284 feet ; height of the nave, 152 feet'; to the top of the lantern, 247 feet ; to 
the top of the spire and statue, 3y6 feet. There are 52 piers, 98 pinnacles, and, inside 
and out, 4,400 statues. 

" The first particulars that strike you on passing to the interior, are, that it is dark and 
gloomy, and that the leading lines are very much interrupted by the shrines introduced 
in the capitals of the piers, whicli injure also the apparent soliditj^ of the building. And 
when you are told that it is nearly 500 feet long, 180 feet wide, and 150 feet high, you 
can hardly believe it. The height of the side aisles (96 feet) certainly diminishes the 
appearance of that of the nave ; but the width of the na"\'e (55 feet) is not remarkably 
great in proportion to the other dimensions. 



THE CATHEDRAL OF MILAN. . 601 

" With all these defects, however, and with some feeling of disappointment from having 
heard so much of this building, it was impossible not to acknowledge the sublime effect 
of the interior. The style does not correspond to any of our English modes of pointed 
architecture. The vaulting is simple, without any branching ribs or any ridge-piece ; it 
is so much super-vaulted, that each bay appears to be the portion of a dome ; and the 
disposition of the materials in concentric circles, or in portions of such circles, makes me 
believe that this is nearly the case. The windows of the clerestory are extremely small 
and ioisignificant : those of the side aisles are long and narrow. They are ornamented 
with quatrefoils ; but a division of the height into two parts by arched ribs (which have 
not precisely the eftect of transoms, because they do not cross the window at the same 
level) indicate a very different period of taste from that of the rose and quatrefoil heads 
in France and England. The lower part of the capitals has something of the running 
foliage of the fourteenth century of England ; bvit the shrine-work which forms their 
upper part is perfectly unique. The bases and the plans of the pillars are equally 
anomalous, and any person would be baffled in determining the date from the architec- 
ture, only he might safely decide that it could not be very earlj'. The smallness of the 
upper windows produces a gloomy appearance and oppressive feeling, like that of the 
cavern stjde of architecture in the south of France, with which it has nothing else in 
common. There are three fine large windows in the polygonal end of the choir ; but 
even these are ill-placed and have little effect. The roof is covered Avith slabs of marble. 
It is everywhere accessible, and is a fine place on which to ramble about undisturbed, and 
examine the details of the architecture ; or, turning our eyes to more distant objects, to 
survey the wide-extended plain of fertile Lonibardy, and even the long-continued i-idges 
of the distant Alps. Even at this distance, nearly eighty miles, the splendid summit of 
Monte Eosa may be contemplated with new impressions of its stupendous magnificence." 
One circumstance peculiar to this cathedral is mentioned by Eustace, and, together 
with the explanation, deserves notice. " There are no chapels, properly so called, because 
the Ambrosian rite, which long retained the ancient custom of allowing one altar only, and 
one service, in each church, not having conformed to the modern mode when the cathedral 
was commenced, no provision was made, in the plan, for private masses and oratories. 
This omission contributes much to the simplicity and unity of the edifice. Altars, 
however, there are now in abundance, but placed in such a manner as not to interfere 
with the general design. The high altar stands, as in the Roman basilicas, in front of the 
chancel, with the choir, in a semicircular form, behind it. There is no screen ; and the 
chancel is entirely open, separated from the nave only by its elevation." 

This traveller describes as the most remarkable object in the interior of the cathedral, 
"the subterranean chapel," in which the bodjr of St. Charles Borromeo reposes. "It is 
immediately under the dome, in form octangular, and lined with silver, divided into 
panels representing the principal actions of the life of the saint. The body is in a shrine 
of rock crystal, on, or rather behind, the altar. It is stretched at full length, dressed 
in pontifical robes, with the crosier and mitre. The face is exposed, very improperly, 
because much disfigured by decay ; a deformity increased and rendered more hideous by 
its contrast with the vestments which cover the body, and by the pale, ghastly light that 
gleams from the aperture above." 

The other churches of Milan are not, in general, beautiful cither externally or in the 
interior ; and, as antiquities, most of them have lost their interest by being modernised, 
particularly the inside. This appears to have been done much at the same period, 
probably about the time of St. Charles Borromeo. Next to the cathedral, " the most 
interesting church in Milan is certainly that of St. Ambrose, or perhajDS many might put 
it in the first place. It is said to be the very church which that saint closed against 
Theodosius after the massacre at Thessalonici, in 390. They even pretend to show you 



602 ITALY. 

the identical doors ; but the move probable opinion is, that these doors are of the ninth 
century, made by order of Archbishop Anspert ; they are covered with a profusion of 
carving in figures and foliage ; but the wire-work, added to protect them, almost hides 
the detail." 

" The most ancient part of tlie bidlding which presents any character of architecture is 
probably of the same period, though one would not venture to deny that some remains of 
the original church of St. Ambrose may still exist. The court in front is acknowledged 
to be of the ninth century, and the church exhibits verj"- much of the same style of art. 
The court is a parallelogram, surrounded with arcades, having three arches at each end, 
and sis on each side. The walls abound with fragments of inscriptions, and one or two 
curious tombs are built upon them ; particularly a large, rude sarcophagus of Pagamus 
Petresanta, captain of the Florentines, who died in 800, and at whose funeral four 
cardinals were present. Considerable vestiges of the old painting in stucco remain on 
the wall, but the subject is no longer discernible. There is nothing in the details of the 
design, or in the execution of this little court, to demand our admiration ; and yet it is 
exceedingly beautiful, from the mere simplicity and harmony of the general disposition. 
The tower is a square brick building. The inside of the church was originally divided, 
on the plan, into square portions, each division having two semicircularly arched 
openings on each side, on the ground, and two above to the gallery, and a vaulting of 
semicircular groined arches. The two first squares remain in this state, but the third 
has two pointed groins springing from a lower point ; the strong ribs which separate the 
squares unite likewise in a point. The fourth square is that of the lantern, which, from 
the external appearance, is probably an addition of the thirteenth century : within, it 
is entirely modernised. There is no transept. The parallel walls of the building 
continue a little beyond the lantern, and the building terminates in an ancient niche 
or ajisin. 

" The choir- has been modernised, except the cqjsis, which is ornamented with mosaics 
representing oirr Saviour, and with saints and angels. It is said to have been executed 
by Greek artists in the tenth century. The pieces of the mosaic are formed of a thin 
lamina of gold or metal, laid on a thick die of glass, and covered Avith a very thin plate 
of the same material, and the whole united by exposure to heat. In a little chapel of 
San Satyro, in this church, is another mosaic of the same sort, which is thought to be 
still more ancient. The great altar contains the ashes of St. Ambrose, St. Gervase, and 
St. Protasius. Over it is a canopy, supported on four columns, of a beautiful red porphyry. 
The canop}'- is attributed to the ninth centurjr, but the columns are esteemed much more 
ancient, and I dare say are so, but not in their present situation. They pass through 
the present paving, and tradition says they are as much below as fhej are above, which 
is about ten feet. The bases of the piers in the nave show the pavement there to have 
been raised above a foot ; that of the choir is about two feet above that of the nave : if 
we add these two dimensions to the present height of the columns above the pavement, 
we shall probabty have their total height. The canopy is composed of four arches, each 
somewhat exceeding a semicircle, and of four gables of a greenish colour, I'ichly adorned 
with gold. The ornament of the archivolt is formed of a series of intersecting archesj aU 
gilt ; and the little gilt crockets run along the gables. The altar is also very rich with 
gold, silver, and precious stones. Besides the altar, this church contains part of a granite 
column, with a marble capital much too small for the shaft ; and upon this is the identical 
brazen serpent made by Moses for the children of Israel in the wilderness; More 
moderate people say that it was made in imitation of that of Moses. It is entirely devoid 
of use or beauty, and does not seem to be an object of reverence. Near this is a 
sculptured sarcophagus of white marble, of Christian times, supposed to have been made 
to receive the ashes of Stilico and his wife Serena; Over the sarcophaguSj and partly 



LEONAUDO DA VINCI. 603 

resting upon it, is a marble pulpit, whioli, witli the eagle of gilt bronze that forms the 
reading-desk, is of the twelfth century. 

"On leaving this church," aaja Mr. Wood, "I went to visit a little chapel where 
St. Augustine was baptized; but it has been modernised. This modernising, for the 
purpose, generalhr, of decoration rather than of repair, is most fatal to the historic 
interest of architectural monuments of other days. In this church, however, if anywhere 
in lililau, the traveller may surrender himself to the illusion Avhich connects the mind 
with distant times. Few names so truly illustrious occur in the annals of Milan as that 
of Ht. Ambrose, the intrepid champion of the church and the people in the dark and 
stoimy period which closed the fourth centuiy, of which Gibbon records, that he deserves 
the esteem and veneration of his flock, ' without soliciting the favour, or apprehending 
the displeasure of his. feeble sovereign.' Besides the pulpit, in which he is said to have 
preached, ' of plain stone, very large, and of a square form,' there is shown the saint's 
bedstead. These may or may not be genuine, but his earthly relics at least slumber 
beneath the altar. The Ambrosian ritual, peculiar to the churches of Milan, has suffered 
innovation in some respects (and innovation in the Romish Church is always deterio- 
ration) ; but the mass and ceremonies still differ from the ritual observed in all other 
Homan Catholic churches, in retaining more of the ancient simpKcity. In this church, 
the scene of ecclesiastical councils and civil conflicts, the German emperors ordinarily 
received from the archbishop the royal crown of Lombardy. Napoleon, it is said, 
deviated from the usual custom, by assuming the iron crown in the cathedral, but 
immediately afterwards repairing to the church of St. Ambrose. The Milanese are most 
proud of their Buomo, and San Carlo is their favourite saint ; but' the more ancient 
structure wakens the deepest interest, as it bears a far more venerable name." 

Another church which claims the traveller's notice is the Madonna delle Grasie, which 
formerly belonged to a rich convent of Dominicans, celebrated for containing the Last 
Supper of Leonardo da Yinci. The church itself is not without interest. The nave is 
ancient, with a sort of half modernisation which lets the antique character peep througli. 
To this has been added a large square edifice, forming the centre of the building, 
crowned with a lantern of sixteen sides, and a choir. The central part marks the 
beginning of the restoration of Roman architecture, and retains traces of Gothic taste ; 
but the parts are so Avell disposed and so well combined, that it forms one of the most 
pictuj-esque compositions possible. 

The famous " Cenacolo," or Last Supper of Da Vinci, still exists in what was once the 
refectory of the convent ; but it is in so bad a state, that hardly anything but the general 
design and composition are now discernible. Unhappily, in this masterly production, 
Da Vinci chose to try the effect of oil, in preference to the more durable process of fresco. 
The consequence is, that a great portion has scaled off from the wall, and that which still 
adheres has become of a dingy black, owing principally to the effect of damp. The level 
of the floor is so low as to be at times three feet under water, and the walls are never 
quite drjr. Under Eugene Beauharnois, the room was drained, and everything possible 
has been done for the preservation of the picture from further injury. Mr. Eustace, ever 
glad of an occasion to abuse the French, accuses them of having used this picture m a 
target for the soldiers to fire at ; adding, to deepen the atrocity of the outrage, that tlie 
heads were their favourite marks, and that of our Savioiu' in preference to tJie others. 
Lady Morgan flatly pronounces the story entirely false from beginning to end. Tlie fact 
appears to be, that although much of the accusation is gratuitous, and the whole has 
received a strong portion of colouring from Mr. Eustace's imagination, the picture has 
received injury from the French soldiers. "Wishing," says Mr. Simond, "to ascertain 
whether Eustace's accusation against the French were true, I examined the picture closely, 
and certainly discovered a number of round holes like balls, plugged up with something 



604 ITALY. 

like putty, and likewise dents in the wall, apparently the effect of brickbats thrown 
against it, fragments of which still remained in some of the holes. As to when, and by 
whom the mischief was done, a woman who had lived next door for the last seventeen 
years, told me, that she had heard of soldiers firing at the picture before her time ; that 
a soldier of the sixth regiment of French hussars had told her, that he himself with 
others had done so, not knowing what it was, when guarding prisoners confined in the 
hall ; and that these prisoners, men of all nations, threw stones and brickbats against it 
by way of amusement. When Bonaparte came to Milan, he called to see the pictui-e, 
and finding the place still used as a place of confinement, ' shrugged his shoulders and 
stamped with his foot,' the woman said ; and ordering the prisoners away, had a dooi', 
which she showed me, near the picture, walled up, and a balustrade, or low wooden 
partition, drawn across the room below it for protection. 

" The painting has suffered more serious injury, however, from the impious hands, not 
of the French, but of the monks themselves. Forsyth asserts, that thej^ once whitewashed 
it ! The feet of our Saviour were cut away hy a superior of the convent, to heighten a 
doorway ; a circumstance Mr. Eustace of course forgets to mention. According to Lady 
Morgan, it has also been defaced by attempts at restoration. It originally occupied the 
whole side of the wall, about thirty feet in length, and fifteen in height. The head of 
our Saviour is stated by Vasari to have been left unfinished by Leonardo ; and Lanzi, 
who throws a doubt on this circumstance, acknowledges that in its present state three 
heads of the apostles alone remain of the original work." 

" Of the heads," says Professor Phillips, " there is not one untouched, and many are 
totally ruined. Fortunately that of the Saviour is the most pure, being but faintly 
retouched ; and it presents even a most perfect image of that divine character. Whence 
arose the story of its not having been finished, it is difficult now to conceive ; and the 
history varies among the writers who have mentioned it. But perhaps a man so scrupu- 
lous as he in the definement of character and expression, and so ardent in his pursuit 
of them, might have expressed himself unsatisfied, where all others could see only 
perfection." 

On the opposite wall there is a fresco, in comparativelj^ good preservation, although 
somewhat older. The date, 1495, and the name of the artist, Donatus Mototarra, are 
inscribed upon it. " The helmets of the warriors," Mr. Simond says, " come out in 
actual relief on the wall, with a view, probablj^, to increase the fierceness of their looks ; a 
trick worthy of the rest of the picture, which was bad. Two of the figures in the fore- 
ground, painted in oil over the fresco, in order, probablj^, to give them more vigour, 
have become of the same dingy black as those of Leonardo da Vinci." 

By order of Napoleon, an accurate copy of Da Vinci's painting was made by a skilful 
Milanese artist, Guiseppe Bossi ; and from this copy. Signer Rafaelli, of Rome, has 
executed another copy in mosaic, which, it is said, on the same authority, " possesses all 
the correctness of design, and all the expression still distinguishable in the decayed 
original, together with the strength of colouring and harmony which that has now lost." 
The work was begmi b}^ order of Eugene, has been continued by the Emperor of Austria, 
ari& was completed some years ago, after having occupied the labour of eight or ten men 
during eight years. The change of its destination, which has transferred it to Vienna, is 
much to the dissatisfaction of the Italian citizens. The worksliop of Rafaelli was one of 
the principal " lions " in Milan. 

The church of St. Mark's is an edifice of the thirteenth centurj', and its beauty is said 
to have been at one time proverbial. " The proportions," Mr. Wood saj's, " are very 
good, though low in comparison Avith those usual with us. The front seems to have had 
a magnificent rose-window, which is now filled up. The inside has been entirely 
modernised, but enough of the exterior remains to show how very inferior the architecture 



of Italy was, at that period, to that of France and England. Though adopting a slightly 
pointed arch, the buildings do not seem to have risen above the plainness and rudeness of 
the jSaxon style, till the middle of the foui'teenth centurj'-. 

"The church of St. Eustorgio deserves a passing glance. The outside is of brick, 
probably of the thirteenth centurj'-, as, in 1220, it came into the possession of the 
Dominicans. The inside has been modernised, but it contains some interesting tombs of 
the Visconti, and of the early restorers of Grreek literature in Italy. Here also they 
pretend to show the marble sarcophagi of the three wise men — kings they are pleased to 
call them — who followed the star of our Saviour from the East." An archbishop is said 
to have brought the bones from Asia to Milan in the fourth century '; and Frederick 
Barbarossa, in the twelfth, seized and carried them to Cologne, where their tomb forms 
one of the special objects which those who^;^^ may see when they visit 

' That town of monks and bones 
And pavements fanged witli murderous stones.' 

" The little church of San Satyro still exhibits some of the architecture of the ninth 
century. It is a mere fragment, of no great interest, except as it serves to prove that 
the taste of that period was very much like that which we call Norman, with capitals 
more nearly resembling the ancient Corinthian ; but I could not trace anything," adds 
Mr. Wood, " of the heau icms cle Rome, which is said to characterise this edifice." 

Evelyn mentions San Celso "as a church of rare architecture, built by Bramante, the 
carvings of the marble faciata by Hannibal Fontana. In a room adjoining the church is 
a marble Madonna like a colosse, of the same sculptor's work, which they will not expose 
to the air. There are two sacristias, in one of which is a fine Virgin of Leonardo da 
Vinci ; in the other is one by Raphael d'Urbino, a piece which all the world admire. 
The sacristan showed us a world of rich plate, jewels, and embroidered copes, which are 
kept in presses." Mr. Wood speaks of the church of the Madonna di San Celso as an 
edifice built towards the close of the fifteenth century, and attributed to Bramante, and 
also to Solari, a Milanese ; while the font is the design of Graleazzo Alessi, who Avas not 
born till about the year 1550. "The entrance is from a court surrounded with arcades, 
which has a very elegant appearance. The edifice is of marble, and both the court and 
the interior of the church are well proportioned, and produce a pleasing impression, 
t.hough the details are bad.", Mr. Forsyth briefly mentions this same church as boasting 
of some admirable statues : " its front, indeed, is injured by them." 

Milan has been styled " the little Paris," and the appellation is not inappropriate, for 
it resembles that capital rather than the other Italian cities. The streets of the old town 
are mostly narrow and irregular, but its modern buildings are those of a gay, thriving, 
and prosperous population. The citizens are generally fond of what is called " good 
living," and its markets are abundantly supplied with every luxury. Numerous ca/es, 
splendid hotels, an abundance of elegant carriages and elegantly-dressed pedestrians, all 
attest the habits of a luxurious capital. 

But Milan is also a centre of learning ; it is the residence of several of the best Italian 
writers, and more books are published yearly in this city than in all the rest of Italy. 
The annual exhibition of living artists shows that the fine arts are cultivated and 
patronised. The museum of Brera contains several excellent paintings of the great 
masters, Gruercino, Raffaelle, and Guide. The Ambrosian Library is rich in manuscripts, 
pamphlets, and other valuable remains of ancient literature. 

Ilafiaelle's cartoon for the School of Athens is in the second gallery of this building. 
It contains the figures only, without the architecture, executed with black chalk on gray 
paper, and is twenty-six feet nine inches wide. " It is," saj's Sir C. Eastlake, " one of 
the most interesting examples of the nature and extent of the alterations introduced in a 



(iOG ■ ITALY. 

composition prepared for fresco. The changes are mostly additions. The figure of 
Epictetus, represented in the fresco sitting in the foreground on the left, leaning his 
head on his hand, is wanting in the cartoon. This figure was added to fill up a vacant 
space, and thus the change, though a considerable improyement, involved no incon- 
venience. Some less important alterations in the same fresco — such as covering the head 
of Aspasia with drapery instead of sho^^dng her flowing tresses (for thiis she appears in 
the cartoon) — might have been made on the wall, without any change in the draAving. 
That this cartoon was the identical one which served for the execution of the fresco, is 
proved by the exact conformity of every part, except the additions above mentioned, 
with the painting." 

The Grreat Hospital, one of the finest and largest in the world, has been richly endowed 
by numerous benefactors, whose portraits are preserved within its walls. A singular but 
amusing distinction has been observed in these portraits. Those benefactors, who have 
contributed below a certain smn, are represented standing, v/hile those whose donations 
or legacies have been more considerable, are painted sitting at their ease. 

Milan has also houses of refuge for poor children ; two large workhouses for the 
xmemployed poor ; a savings bank ; a veterinary school ; a school of music ; and another 
of the fine arts. For general education there are three royal colleges ; three gymnasia ; 
three establishments for female instruction ; and several elementary schools. The 
manufactures of Milan consist chiefly of silks, braid, soap, leather, printed cottons, platO' 
glass, jewellery, and artificial flowers. 



CHAPTER XLII. 

TURIN — MONT CENIS MONTE ROSA FARE^\^LL TO THE AlFS. 

The first view of Turin is very imposing. No mean suburbs, no mouldering walls deform 
its entrance. The spacious and regular streets so intersect each other, as to leave an 
opening at their extremity, that everywhere admits a view of the fine background of 
green hills and hanging viae5rards. ToT>^ards the centre, the Piazza Reale, formed by the 
palace and other public edifices, presents one of the most elegant squares in Europe ; 
and in the principal streets, the Contrada Nuova, the Dora Grossa, and the Contrada 
del Po, which are from eighty to one himdred feet in width, a long and regular line of 
porticoes exhibits a striking succession of beautiful architecture ; while the balconies 
above, canopied with light draperies, have a picturesque and lively ajDpearance. The 
plan of the citj'-, its rectangular streets, with the royal palace in the centre, is completely 
in the Spanish taste. Turin is, in fact, stated to owe much of its regularity to the 
alliance of a Piedmontese prince with an Infanta of Spain. An incompleteness, however, 
mars, in some degree, this imposing grandeur ; even in facades of the handsomest 
architecture, the holes are still left gaping, which supported the scaffolding at the time ' 
of their erection. 

Though the royal palace is not built in the rules of beauty, it is grand enough for a 
monarch. The palace of the Duke of Savoy, standing alone in the middle of the principal 
square, required four fronts equal in dignity ; but three are hideous in themselves, and 
derive compai'ative ugliness from the beauty of the fourth. This last front, composed of 
one Corinthian peristjde, raised on a plain basement, is the noblest elevation in Turin, 
where it holds the post of honour. The palace of Carignano has a curvilinear front, 
raezzanini above mezzanini, orders that are of no order, and fantastic ornaments, 
threatened rather than produced, on the unplastered brick. The staircase is a difi&cult 
trick of Guarini's, who wasted his architectural wit in many attem]jts to frighten the 
world by the appearance of weight unsupported. Guarini and Juvara have profaned the 
churches of Turin with the same puerile conceits and ostentation of stone-cutting science. 
Their Carmine, Carmelitane, Consola, &c., • evince wonderful talents for the crooked, the 
singular, and the gaudy. The Santo Sudario, a chapel common to the cathedral and the 
palace, is entirely composed of a slate -coloured marble. Such materials were in them- 
selves solemn and monumental ; but, falling into the freakish hands of Guarini^ they 
have been frittered into a cupola fidl of triangular windows, which form the wildest 
lace-work that ever disgraced architecture. 

At the time of the French invasion, Turin, though only three miles in circumference 
(the smallest roj'^al capital in Europe), is stated to have contained not fewer than a 
hundred and ten churches ; all splendidly endowed, and rich in marbles, pictures, and 
other treasures. The metropolitan church, San Giovanni Battista, was once numbered 
among the richest churches of Italy ; but its vases of pure gold, its forty candelabras, and 
twenty bishops of virgin silver, its censers of precious stones, ruby crosses, and adaman- 



608 ITALY. 

tine hearts, have all disappeared, transmuted and perverted to profane purposes. Some 
have gone to stem the incursions of the Po ; and some have even found their way to 
Paris, and have contributed to clear the noxious purlieus of the Tuileries, and to build 
the beautiful Eue de Rivoli, the monunaent of the French concjuest over the royal 
pleasure-grounds of Turin. 

The cathedra], especially its western front, has a noble aspect ; the doorway is richly 
ornamented with well-executed basso-relievos, and supported by marble pilasters. There 
is also a beautiful circular font of white marble. 

There is a superb chapel of St. Michael, better known by the name of its palladium, 
the Santo Sudario, or Santissimo Sindone ; that is to say, our Saviour's winding sheet or 
shroud. A long history is attached to this relic ; and in the time of Calvin, who was 
bold enough to call in question its authenticity, it was the cause of many controversial 
publications, some of which are still extant. It is said to have been a gift from Geoffroi, 
on his return from the Holy Laud, to Amadous I., and was originally deposited in a 
church at Chaniberg, which, during a terrible conflagration, was burned to the ground ; 
but although the silver box in which the Sindone was deposited, was on that occasion 
destroj^ed or melted, the shirt was only singed ! 

The chapel stands high, like a gallerj^ above the level of the church ; opening from its 
centre by a handsome flight of steps, and separated only by a fine marble balustrade, 
which, as well as two superb columns on each side, are of black marble. The form of the 
chapel is circular. The cupola is supported by pillars of black marble, grouped two and 
two ; the bases and capitals of bronze richly gilt, producing an admirable contrast to the 
black marble. The floor is pure white marble, studded with golden stars ; the ceiling, 
formed of trellis-Avork, is whimsical ; but the dark colouring and sedate ground correspond 
to the richness of the whole. The spaces between the columns are fiUed with oval 
medallions, painted sky-blue, and filled with votive offerings, some of a singular kind. 
' The effect of the whole chapel is grand, solemn, and imposing, without being gloomy. 
In the centre stands the altar ; a low railing in white marble, surrounded with little 
serapliim, marks the outer circle ; and within, at the four coi'ners, stand four angels, 
executed in a very good style. Hung round the altar are lamps which burn continually 
night and day. The whole is surmounted with a gilded glory, which, however, by 
rendering the height disproportioned, much injures the effect. 

The church of Santa Theresa, attached to a convent of bare-footed friars, is distin- 
guished by its unsuitable splendour, while its altar-piece, deemed a chef-d'oeuvre of 
Guglielmo Caccia, has a most repulsive profaneness. It represents an infant Christ, as 
Cupid, aiming at the heart of the fair and ecstatic saint, while the Virgin Mother smiles 
at his efforts, and even the grave features of St. Joseph relax into a look of complacency. 
The statue of the same saint, by Le Gros, in the church of Santa Christina, is described 
as " still more expressive of the divine love which filled the tenderest of saintly hearts." 
For offensive representations of this nature, however, the protestant traveller must 
prepare himself. The excuse for them is, that they are allegorical designs. But the 
language of the inscriptions and prayers which he will meet with in the churches 
dedicated to Santa Rosolia, Santa Catharina, Santa Rosa, Santa Agatha, and other virgin 
saints of the Romish calendar, will not unfrequently startle him by a species of profane- 
ness, still more palpable and inexcusable ; nor will he be able easily to persuade himself 
that the interviews between Diana and Endymion, or Bacchus and Ariadne, are not the 
subject of the erratic legend. 

All the churches in Turin yield, in consequence and celebrity, to La Siqm-ga, which 
crowns the steepest and least accessible eminence in the immediate vicinity, five miles 
from the city. This edifice was erected in fulfilment of a vow of gratitude offered up to 
heaven by Victor Aniadeus, for the signal victory obtained over a French army under 



Philip, Duke of Orleans, in 1706. On the spot chosen for its site, the Duke of Savoy and 
Prince Eugene stood, while they laid the plan of the battle. The result was, that not 
only were the French compelled to raise the siege of Turin, but in a few months they 
evacuated the whole of the North of Italy. 

In front of the edifice is a portico of eight marble columns of the Corinthian order ; on 
the sides rise two lofty campaniles ; the whole being crowned with a cupola of the most 
majestic proportions. Marbles, pictures, bronzes, and every species of decoration have 
been profusely bestowed in its embellishment ; but its chief beauty is derived from its 
striking situation. 

In approaching Turin, the eye rests upon this magnificent mausoleum (for it is here 
that the royal family of Piedmont are sepulchred) ; on leaving the city you still see it ; 
and as you travel down the valley of the Po, it is again beheld with admiration. The 
view from the portico is very striking, looking down upon the miniature capital, 
surrounded with a country richly wooded and studded with villas, in the midst of which 
the silvery Po is seen " writhing its stream " through the whole extent of the valley ; 
and beyond the mountain boundaries of the plain, rise the rugged forms of the Alps, 
capped with perpetual snows. 

The architect of this edifice was Filippo Juvara. A story is told of his being compelled 
by the prince, out of economy, to vise a quantity of old columns in the erection ; and hence, 
it is said, the cupola of the church is disfigured by torsos and ill-matched pillars ; but the 
imputation cast upon the royal builder comes from a suspicious quarter. Dwellings are 
provided there for the officiating priests, and a liberal stipend is afibrded by government 
for the maintenance of the establishment. 

The royal palace of Turin contains little in the interior that is remarkable. On 
the grand staircase is an indifferent equestrian statue of Victor Amadeus, the king in 
bronze and the horse marble. The apartments of ceremony are splendidly decorated, 
and the walls of all the rooms are enriched with paintings, chiefly of the Dutch, Flemish, 
and French schools. Of the few productions of the Italian masters, " The Four Elements " 
of Albani, in the king's bed-chamber, is the most celebrated. The gallery of the palace 
has all the splendour that frescoes and gilding can bestow ; and the numerous portraits 
by Vandyke are the most precious treasures of its collection. 

The city of Turin has a municipal body, which enjoys considerable privileges, and 
directs thfe internal or civil administration of its affiiirs. Its manufactures are of some 
importance, consisting of woollens, silks, hosier}^, leather, paper, china ware and carriages, 
arms, and there is a royal manufactory of tapestry or Gobelins. The coffee-houses are 
numerous, but, generally speaking, not so roomy or elegant as those of Milan or ]N"aples. 
Post-coaches, called velociferi, run between the capital and most provincial towns of the 
Sardinian territories. Provisions of every sort are good and abundant, and the cooking 
is a medium between that of France and Italy. The manners, habits, and dress of the 
people are of the same blended character. The people are intelligent, steady, and 
sociable ; and the tone of formality and etiquette maintained by the court, communicates 
itself to the uj^per classes of society. The common language among the natives is the 
Piedmontese dialect ; but Italian is the written and official language, and educated 
people speak both Italian and French. 

The TJniversity of Turin was founded in 1405 ; but the buildings, Avhich are extensive 
and well arranged, are of the eighteenth century. The court is surrounded with a double 
tier of porticoes, under which is a valuable collection of ancient sculptures, bas-reliefs, 
and inscribed marbles of all ages. Many of these have been obtained from the long- 
neglected ruins of the ancient Roman town of Industria, situated eighteen miles below 
Turin, which were discovered in 1744 by some enterprising antiquaries. Excavations 

2 K 



being made, numerous medals, bronze figures, and other antique remains, were iDrouglit t 
light, and deposited in the royal collection. 

The University consists of five faculties — divinity, law, medicine, surgery, and arts. 
To it belong a mxiseum of natural history, a museum of anatomy, a chemical laboratory, 
an hydraulic apparatus, and a rich botanical garden, outside the town, near the banks 
of the Po. About 2,000 students attend the various courses. 

The library of the University contains above 112,000 volumes, and about 2,000 
manuscripts, among which are the paliumpsests, from the monastery of Bobbio, containing 
fragments of Cicero's orations, which have been deciphered and published by Professor 
Peyron. The gallery of ancient sculpture contains some remarkable objects, one of which 
is the Isiac Table, of massive bronze or copper, four feet in length by two feet four inches _ 
in breadth, and of considerable thickness, inlaid with hieroglyphics in silver. The 
cabinet of medals, one of the richest in Europe, contains 30,000 pieces. The Egyptian 
museum, which is in the building of the Royal Academy of Sciences, consists chiefly of 
the collection made by M. Drovetti, a long time consul in Egypt, which was purchased 
by King Charles Felix, and is extremely rich. 

The Royal Academy of Sciences is divided into two classes : one of mathematical and 
physical ; the other of moral, historical, and philological science. Many distinguished 
men have been, and are, members of this society. The Academy has published a great 
many volumes of memoirs. Turin has also an Academy of Fine Arts, a Philharmonic 
Society, an Agricultural Society, and a Military College. There are communal schools 
in each district of the town ; schools for drawing, applied to the mechanical arts ; and 
schools for the deaf, dumb, and blind. The charitable institutions are also numerous. 

To quote, before we pass on, the pregnant words of a recent writer, thoroughlj^ 
acquainted with his subject : " Of all the Italic capitals, the least interesting is Turin. 
Severe and dignified, with its long formal streets, and huge square palaces, monotonous 
as stone and lime can make them, the sub-alpine city sits silent and solemn on the Dora 
and the Po. It has no historj'^, at least none worth remembering. It has no imperishable 
names to tell of; no Dorias dwelt there, as in the proud old palaces of Genoa. It has no 
monuments for a world to gaze at, like the tristc and fallen Pisa. It has no literature. 
Even in the time of Alfieri, the very language of the peninsula was almost contraband 
in Tui?in, and the great tragedian fled from it to Florence, that he might hear the people 
talk Italian. Its court, gloomy and bigoted, never even sought to rival the brilliancy of 
the Medici, the Este, or the Gonzaga. It has no Pulci or Boccaccio to ' set the table in a 
roar ;' no Ariosto to sing of ladye loves and belted knights ; no Tasso to weep for 
Leonora. Its stifl' and stately princes, its Amadeos and Immanuels, the very puritans of 
Roman Catholicism, had tm'ued the palace into a cloister ; and when we do hear in 
history of the royal Turin, it is in connexion with some new edict in favour of the 
Romish faith, or some new order to march against the poor Vaudois of Piedmont. Ten 
years ago, the Jesuits darkened every street ; and friars of every hue, black, white, and 
gray, issued in long procession from its churches. It was a city of priests, with an army 
to defend them. The clerical corps amounted to nearly 23,000 individuals, from a 
population of little more than 4,000,000. Out of a state revenue of 85,000,000 francs, 
the clergy drew neaily 14,000,000. The church was nowhere more prosperous than in 
Piedmont. "We cannot point to manj;- satisfactory changes brought about by the ill-fated 
revolution of 1848, but this at least is certain, that a brighter day has dawned on the 
sub-alpine capital, and Turin is now the centre of all that is properly Italian." * 

A few last words on the Alpine eminences must conclude this chapter. Murray says : 
" There is no scene in the Alps surpassing the appearance of Monte Eosa from Macug 
* Nortli Bi'itisli Ileview. 



MOXT CEMS. 611 

at least it is better seen than Mont Blanc is seen at Chamouni ; from its loftiest peaks to its 
base, in the plains of Macngnaga, its vast masses are spread out before the observer. The 
highest summit is 15,158 feet above the sea level. Its deep rifts are marked by lines of 
snow, and glaciers which stream from its summit to the vault of ice whence issues the 
torrent of Ariza. The bases of the lateral mountains are clothed with dark forests of 
iir and larch, and the whole scene gives an impression of immensity, and excites the most 
sublime emotion. Monte Eosa is by no means a single summit, but a knot or union of 
two ridges or chains crossing each other at right angles." 

The valley of St. iJficholas, or the Matterthal, as it is called in German (which in this 
part of the canton is the only language spoken), it may be well to remark, is situate 
between the rocky masses and glaciers that are attached to and descend from Monte 
Rosa and Mont Oervin, and is traversed by the torrent of the Matter. It is entered just 
after passing the confluence of the IMatter and the Sans, which traverses the valley of the 
Moro. Here luxuriant forests and pastures abound, and the little village of Graiichen is 
seen on the left, embosomed in trees, the birth-place of Thomas Platter, the reformer and 
physician of Bale. Soon after the path rises and winds along the movmtain slope, often 
at some risk to the traveller, amid scenery which increases in wildness the further it 
extends, till at length the village of Zermatt is reached, near to the glacier of the same 
name. This spot has been much resorted to by the lovers of botany and geology, and 
while rich in materials for such study, aff'ords solitude and grandeur fitted to call forth 
ail the powers of the imagination of the dullest mind. But there is one object which of 
itself would repay the trouble of a detour from the regular route : it is the ice-bound 
mass of the Mont Cervin, rising directly some 4,000 feet from the glaciers by which it is 
surrounded, of a pyramidal form, and altogether 15,200 feet above the sea. 

Between Zermatt and the summit of the pass, this might}' mass is constantly in view, 
and almost entirely absorbs the attention ; for it is here, as elsewhere, that when one 
object in a landscape exceeds the rest in size and beauty, the mind, being limited in 
power, naturally fixes itself on that, to the exclusion of the others. 

The summit of the pass which connects this valley with the valley of Aosta, is 11,000 
feet above the sea, and, from its great elevation, affords an extensive view, comprising the 
valleys and peaks of Piedmont, Monte Bosa, and the Bernese Alps. On the other side, 
the path runs amid dark ra\'ines to ChatiUon, which has already been mentioned. 

Another remarkable eminence situated on the high road between Turin and Lyons, is 
Mont Cenis, over which Buonaparte constructed one of his military ways. To adopt 
the language of Alison : " Louis XIV. had said, after the Family Compact was con- 
cluded, ' There are no longer any Pj'renees ;' but with greater reason iNapoleon might 
say, after the roads over the Simplon and Mont Cenis were formed, 'There are no 
longer any Alps.' And this marvellous achievement was gained in the first three years 
of his chief consulate. In the first report of the Minister of the Interior, when Napoleon 
met the Chambers after his return from Tilsit, one statement was, ' The roads of 
Mont Cenis and of the Simj^lon have, after six j'cars of labour been completed : the two 
greatest works undertaken for centuries.' " 

If, however, Hannibal and Napoleon have acquired immortal renown by leading great 
armies across the Alps, what shall be -said of those who propose to bore through them? 
The project does not appear bj^ any means impracticable. Engineers gravely examine it, 
and report that it may be carried into execution ; and after the Crystal Palace, and the 
Britannia Bridge, and the Thames Tunnel, who will venture to disbelieve them ? 

To complete a direct line of railway commimication between Boulogne, Venice, and 
Ancona, and consequently between London and the Adriatic, only one obstacle lies in 
the way. The chain of Mont Cenis and Mont Genevre, running nearly north-east and 
south-west, would cross such a line, and present, with the elevation of 11,000 feet, an 

2 K 2 



612 ITALY. 

insurmountable bar to any direct and continuous railway. The railway can, with some 
difficulty, be ma^e to Modane, at the foot of the northern crest of the Graian and 
Cottian Alps ; but here it must stop, unless a subterranean passage can be found through 
the mountains, — and a project for doing this has been for several years under considera- 
tion by the Sardinian government. Chevalier Henry Maus has devoted much study to 
making the examinations and calculations, and has invented a new boring machine for 
the purpose of carrying out the plan. He made his report early in 1849, and a com- 
mission of engineers, army officers, and geologists was appointed to examine into the 
feasibility of the project. The tunnel is expected to cost about £600,000, and may be 
finished in five years. It will measure 12,290 metres, or nearly seven miles in length. 
Its greatest height will be nineteen feet, and its width twenty-five, admitting, of course, 
of a doiible line of rails. Its northern entrance will be at Modane, and the southern at 
Bardonneche, on the river Mardovine. This latter entrance, being the highest point of 
the intended line of rail, will be 4,092 feet above the level of the sea:, and yet 2, 00 feet 




SCINE ShiU IMIE^ 



below the highest point of the great pass over Mont Cenis. It is intended to divide the 
connecting lines of rails leading to either entrance of the tunnel into eight inclined 
planes of about 5,000 metres, or 2| English miles each, worked, like those at Liege, by 
endless cables and stationary engines, but in the pi'esent case moved by water power 
derived from the torrents. At one point there will be 4,850 feet of mountain, capped 
with eternal glaciers, overhead. Ventilation must be maintained by forcing air in and 
out by mechanical means. 

The newly-invented machine which it is proposed to use for tunnelling, consisis of two 
large hydraulic wheels, eighteen feet in diameter, which move two pulleys (with an 
endless cable passed twice round them) placed horizontally, and of thirty feet diameter. 
There is also an endless cable connected with the excavating machinery, to move at the 
rate of thirty-five feet per second, arid a weight to keep the cable in a proper state of 
tension at the opposite end of the hydraulic wheels, arid to travel on a waggon between 
these and a great well, sunk to receive a corresponding weight at the end of a rope* 



FAliUXVELL TO THE ALPS. 613 

The machine once presented to the rock, projects into it simultaneously four horizontal' 
series of sixteen scalpels, working backward and forward, by means of springs cased in, 
and put in operation by the same water power. While these are at work, one vertical 
series on each side works simultaneously up and down, so that together they cut out four 
blocks on all sides, except in the rock behind, from which they are afterwards detached 
by hand. During the operation a pump throws a jet of water between each' pair of 
scalpels, to prevent the heating of the tools, and to wash out the rubbish. After their 
complete separation, the blocks are pulled out by the help of the^ endless cable, and 
received into a waggon, to be drawn fr-om the tunnel. The machiaes are only to cut a 
gallery thirteen feet wide and seven high, which is afterwards to be enlarged by the 
ordinary means to the size mentioned above. . It has already been ascertained that each 
of the two machines, at opposite ends of the tunnel, will excavate to the extent of 
twenty- two feet a day, and it is thus estimated " that the whole excavation will be com- 
pleted in four years. The rocks which it is supposed will be. met with are gypsum, 
limestone, and quartz in veins. Of the effects of such an undertaking, there can be but 
one opinion. It would form a new highway for the diffusion of moral and politicar 




SONDEINO, OX THE BOAD FllGM IVKEA TO VERCEIL. 

blessings all over the continent. The very fact that the idea originated in Sardinia, is a 
striking instance of the good that is wrought by a free government, and presents a 
brilliant contrast to the gloomy rule of the papacy, which totally prohibits the formation 
of railways in the States of the Church. We have fears for the early completion of this 
project, but our best wishes arise for its success. 

And now let the traveller, before he proceeds on his way, pause, and take his last 
glimpse of the Alps — those mighty masses which, during successive weeks, have been 
gazed on again and again, formed the subject of o\ir hourly conversation, enkindled 
emotions which no words can express, and even haunted in forms of beauty and 
sublimity our nightly dreams. Ye monarchs of olden Europe, though reluctance rises 
strongly within us, we must bid you farewell ! Farewell to your snow-capped domes, 
your sky-piercing aiguilles, your lightnipg-riveu crags, your smiling valleys, your 
spacious ice-fields, your awful ravines, your mantling clouds. Immense, indeed, are the 
ages that have elapsed from the first period when ye emerged, probably as an archipelago 
of low islands, in a tropical climate, to that epoch when the plants and animals which 
lived upon joxi indicated a Mediterranean temperature, and then to that Arctic time 



61^ ITALY. 

in which we have gazed on your heights and your depths. What changes, too, have 
passed, to convert the Alps of the earliest glacial period into those which we now 
contemplate ! "With a voice the most eloquent and impressive, do ye speak of Time and 
of Power ; and as we listen we feel that we stand in the inmost shrine of their. temples. 
Our conceptions of the grand, the beautiful, the terrific, the enduring, have all been 
expanded since we first gazed upon ye. Far more wisdom might be gained by him 
who has been presented at your courts, and trod your spacious halls, and held communion 
with your mystic spirits, than by the visitant of earth's most gorgeous palaces. While 
puny man is struggling all aroimd — setting up and pulling down — with a fickleness of 
which your own mists are a symbol, ye stand forth in all your glorj^ imchanged. 
Unchanged ! did we say ? We recall the word. On the works of Nature herself, 
throughout the habitable globe, is written Mutability. Like the entire aspect of the 
earth, whether waste or cultivated, peopled or solitary, ye are perpetually undergoing 
transformation. And as " no man ever bathed twice in the same river," so, though the 
process is slower, no two generations of inhabitants or visitants ever behold ye in the 
same character, colour, and shape ; and the day will doubtless come when ye, the 
mountains of Switzerland and Italy, shall be only things of the past ! — Farewell ! 



CHAPTER XLIII. 

ALESSANDRIA — THE FIELD 01' JURENGO — GENOA — RIVIERA NICE. 

iVtOM Asti, the road lies over the rich undulating country on the left side of the 
Tanaro, which winds among the hUls to Alessandriaj distant by the road about twenty- 
six miles. This is a handsome city, containing about 30,000 inhabitants. It is said to 
derive its name from Pope Alexander III., by whom it was made an episcopal see in 
1168. To this has been added the surname of Delia Paglia, — the natives say, on account 
of the fertility of the country ; others, that it was given to it in contempt by Frederick 
Barbarossa ; a third explanation is, that it was customary to crown here, with a straw 
diadem, the emperor elect ; and a fourth, that the inhabitants, for want of wood, are 
obliged to heat their ovens with straw ! The reader may choose between these 
explanations. 

The city has been famous for the sieges it has sustained, although it has been repeatedly 
taken. But the wars of other times are now forgotten in the more recent events which 
have given celebrity to the field of Marengo. On the bare plain of the Tanaro, Napoleon 
gained that decisive victory over the Austrians, which takes its name from a village 
about a league from the city. On the surrender of Alessandria the conqueror made it a 
condition, that its walls should be destroyed ; and the masses of ruin which they present, 
show that they must once have been capable of making a stout defence. The citadel was 
formerly reckoned one of the strongest places in Europe. 

In its general effect, one traveller tells us, " Alessandria pleases us more than any other 
town in this part of the country. The streets, especially that of Marengo, are spacious, 
airy, and well-built. Its principal square is very handsome, and planted all round with 
double rows of acacia, under the spreading shade of which the people lounge on benches, 
and the fruit and vegetable women range their stalls and baskets. The churches are 
handsome, though not as richly adorned as at Turin. The bridge over the Tanaro is 
covered, and has the effect of a fine corridor. The shops display the usual abundance of 
food and manufactures, but little of fancy or ornament. The people are frank and civil, 
and the women more studious of dress than their lively-looking neighbours of Asti. 
Very bright stufis of various coloui's, fancifully made, large gold necklaces and ear-rings, 
braided hair fastened with ornamented bodkins, form the attractive costume of even the 
market-women." 

The hotel in the Contmda cU Marengo is highly praised by this traveller. The dining- 
room, with its well-painted ceiling, halls tastefully frescoed, and magnificent pier-glasses, 
would be thought handsome for a ball-room in England. The dinner would have " shamed 
an alderman's feast," comprising every luxury from every Italian state, with steaks of 
beef and joints of mutton to suit the taste of Milor Anglais. With this abundance were 
united the requisites of cleanliness, alert attendance and moderate charges. Altogether, 
this traveller was charmed with Alessandria and its inhabitants. 



616 IT.U.T. 

About a mile from the town tlie route crosses, by a neat bridge, the broad and rapid 
Bormido, which flows into the Tanaro ; and, half a league further, reaches the alhergo 
of Marengo. The obelisk erected on the spot where Desaix fell has been taken down by order 
of his Sardinian majesty; and no trophy of victory or trace of conflict now remains on 
these tranquil plains. Marengo and the neighbouring town of Toro are said to have 
been of some note in early times ; and many ancient vestiges remained, before 
Alessandria drew away their population and reduced them to inconsiderable hamlets. 

In the progress of the Emperor and Empress of France, in 1805, a splendid pageant 
took place on the fields of Marengo, where the destinies of Italy had so recently been 
fixed. Here thirty-four battalions and seven squadrons were assembled to imitate the 
mancBuvres of the battle which had given it immortality; while the emperor and 
empress, seated on a lofty throne, which overlooked the whole field, were to behold, in 
mimic war, the terrible scenes which once had occurred upon it. 

The day was bright and clear; the soldiers, who from daybreak had been on the 
ground, impatiently awaited the arrival of the hero ; and shouts of acclamation rent the 
sky when he appeared with the empress, in a magnificent chariot drawn by eight 
horses, surrounded with all the pomp of the empire, and ascended the throne before 
which the manoeuvres were to be performed. Many of the veterans who had been 
engaged in the action were present, among whom the soldiers distinguished in an 
especial manner Marshal Laniies, who had borne so large a portion of the brunt of the 
imperialist attack in that terrible strife. 

After the feigned battle was over, the soldiers defiled before the emperor, upon the 
most distinguished of whom he conferred, amidst the loud acclamations of their comrades, 
the crosses and decorations of the Legion of Honour. The splendid equipments of the 
men, the proud bearing of the horses, the glitter of gold and steel which shone forth 
resplendent in the rays of the declining sun, and the interesting associations connected 
with the spot, produced an indelible impression on the minds of the spectators, and 
contributed not a little to fan the military spirit among the indolent youth of Italy, 
whom Napoleon was so desirous to rouse to more manly feelings prior to the great contest 
with Austria, which he foresaw was approaching.* 

" The first sight of Grenoa from the sea," remarks Mr. Simond, " is certainly very fine ; 
and we saw it under favourable circumstances, when the last rays of the setting sun shed 
over it the richest golden tints of evening. Two gigantic piers project into the sea, and 
a lighthouse of stupendous proportions stands picturesquely on the point of a rock. An 
abrupt hill rises behind, bare and brown, and speckled all over with innumerable white 
dots, being country houses within the walls. This hill, which, in a semicircle of twelve 
miles, contains many times more ground than the town covers, is so completely burnt up, 
that its colour has been compared to that of a crime au chocolat. As to the celebrated 
amphitheatre of palaces, said to be displayed from the sea, they are scarcely visible 
behind the red and green buildings which surround the port, themselves hid in part by a 
huge wall standing between them and the water. The interior of the town consists of 
extremely narrow streets, mere lanes, eight or ten feet wide, between immensely high 
palaces. When you look up, their cornices appear almost to touch across the street, 
scarcely leaving a strip of blue sky between. These streets, too steep as well as too 
narrow for carriages, are at least clean, cool, and quiet. Many of them have in the 
middle a brick causeway two or three feet wide, for the convenience of mules and of 
porters going up loaded ; for they are not practicable for carts. The sides are paved with 
fiat stones for the convenience of the numerous walkers. Two streets are accessible to 
carriages. One of them, the Strada Balbi, is entirely formed of palaces more magnificent 



GENOA. 617 

than those of Some, neater certainly, and less gloomy and neglected ; but, when I say 
neater, I mean the interior, for the gates are, in the same manner, a receptacle of filth. 
These palaces are each built round a court, and the best apartments are on the third floor, 
for the benefit of light and air. The roof, being flat, is adorned with shrubs and trees, 
as myrtle, pomegranate, orange-trees, lemon-trees, and oleanders twenty-five feet high, 
' growing not iu boxes only, but in the open ground several feet deep, brought hither and 
supported on arches. Fountains of water play among these artificial groves, and keep 
up their verdure and shade during the heat of summer. Some of the terraces, on a level 
with apartments paved with the same marble, decorated with the same plants, and lighted 
at night, appear to be a continuation of the rooms ; but, looking up, you see the stars 
overhead, instead of a painted ceiling. 

"A plan of the city in the year 1364, stiH extant, is curious, from the number of 
fortified dwellings and high towers for the purpose of defence, during the mad period of 
domestic warfare between the Guelphs and Ghibelines. These structures have wholly 
disappeared, and a new architectural progeny has succeeded, remarkable for beauty, 
taste, and magnificence, but not for strength. Neither Rome nor Yenice offers anything 
comparable with the profusion of marble columns, marble statues, marble walls, and 
marble stairs, of whole rows of palaces here, or with the pictures which they contain. 
Genoa exhibits fewer remains of ancient splendour than Venice, but more actual wealth 
and comfort. We read of the decline of Genoa, but we see that of Venice. The 
churches here appear nothing after those of Rome ; yet several of them would be 
beautiful, if less profusely gilt and over-fine. The Annondata, for instance, suggested 
the idea of a gold snuff-box. The walls of some of these churches, in the interior, are 
striped with red and white marble ; but the cathedral is striped outside' with red 
and black. 

' " A bridge, one hundred feet high, unites two elevated parts of the town, passing with 
three giant strides over houses six stories high, which do not come up to the spring of 
the arches. This is the work of one of the princely citizens of Genoa in the sixteenth 
century. The same individual, or one of the same family, the Sauli, erected at the end 
of the bridge a noble structure in the best taste, the church of Sapta Maria Carignana ; the 
architect was Perugino. Four colossal statues by Puget adorn the nave ; but affectation 
and exaggeration appeared to me the most conspicuous features of these chefs- cV ceuvre. It 
is certainly well worth while to go up to the cupola, for the extensive view over land and 
sea, mostly over the semicircular and amiDhitheatrical space enclosed by the walls of the 
town ; a wide area interspersed with villas, with terraces, with meagre groves of the pale 
olive, and here and there a greener patch of orange-trees and vineyards. The houses 
stand, as Italian coimtry-houses generally do, in conspicuous nakedness, with only a 
straight avenue of clipped trees, tortured into all sorts of shapes, before them. They are 
inhabited only in spring and autumn, three weeks or a month at each time ; and it is 
reaUy something in favour of the good taste of the natives, that they do not seem to like 
those places." _ . 

The very different impressions which Genoa makes upon different travellers, are, 
perhaps, sufficiently accoimted for by its being sometimes visited in the way to 
Florence and the south, and sometimes merely toiiched at -on the return route. Mr. 
Brockedon remarks, that " Genoa generally disappoints the traveller's expectation," 
and he thinks, that the title of mperh has been improperly bestowed upon it. " The 
palaces," he says, " have the representation, rather than the reality of architectural 
enrichment. Columns, porticoes, pediments, and architraves, statues, and arabesques, 
are painted on the facades, and sometimes even upon tawdry pink and yellow grounds ; 
and what appears to be splendour is only pretence." Mr. Forsyth, giving a dif- 
ferent rendering to the honorary epithet by which the city was once distinguished; 



618 ITALY. 

says : " The palaces, I apprehend, gave to the city the name of ' Proud.' Their black 
and white fronts were once distinctive of the highest nobility ; but most of those 
marble mansions have disappeared. The modern palaces are all facedwith stucco, and 
some are painted in fresco. The fashion of painting figures on house fronts was first 
reproduced at Venice, by Giorgione ; but, though admired even by severe critics, to me 
it appears too gay for any building that afiects grandeur." 

The alleged disappearance of the marble mansions is not easily to be explained- 
Evelyn speaks of the famous Strnda Niwra as " buUt wholly of polished marble." It was 
designed, he adds, by Rubens ; and for the stateliness of the buildings, the paving, and 
evenness of the streets, is far superior to any in Europe for the number of houses : that 
of Don Carlo d'Orias is a most magnificent structure. 

Addison describes the " New Street " as " a double range of palaces from one end to 
the other, built with an excellent fancy, and fit for the greatest princes to inhabit." 
But he does not confirm Evelyn's representation of their being wholly of marble ; and a 
metaphor or hyperbole has, apparently, been mistaken for literal fact. There is all the 
marble in Genoa, probably, that ever adorned its palaces. 

" The Duke of Doria's palace," Addison says, " has the best outside of any in Genoa, 
as that of Durazzo is the best furnished within. There are, in fact, two Durazzo palaces. 
That which is alluded to is, probably, the one in the Strada Balbi, which is now a royal 
■ mansion, having been purchased by the King of Sardinia on his becoming the sovereign 
of Genoa. Its front is about 250 feet in length. It has a superb portico, ornamented 
with Doric columns of white marble. Its A^ast court is rich in architectural embellish- 
ment, with fountains and hanging terraces ; and four flights of broad marble steps lead 
up to its immense ante- chamber ; for it is the attic story, in Genoa, which forms the 
suite of state apartments. The lower floors, owing to the narrowness of the streets, are 
disagreeable and gloomy, and are often let out to tradesmen and other inferior classes." 
" The great fault of the interior of the Palazzo Durazzo," Lady Morgan remarks, "is its 
being broken up into too great a number of small rooms. The visitor is led through a 
long and seemingly interminable suite of apartments, with marble floors, gilded roofs, 
and walls himg with the productions of masters. Galleries, cabinets, terraces, rooms of 
various names and variously decorated, appear in endless succession ; all covered with 
dust, touched by decay, and abandoned to solitude. Even the famous gallery in this 
palace (100 feet in length) is but a long, narrow slip, far too small for its splendid and 
curious collection of statues and sculptures, ancient and modern. The ceiling and deco 
rations are all of the richest carving, gilding, and painting. The frescoes represent the 
destruction of the four great empires. Besides the historical ■ paintings, even family 
portraits are of great interest. Here, in their habits of ceremony, as doges and ambassa- 
dors, range the ancient Durazzi ; and here, with large, languid, dark eyes, and primitive 
air, bloom the Madonna Francescas, Catarinas, &c., of this distinguished house, clad in 
the rich velvet of the Genoese looms, with Venetian chains and foreign gems, the produce 
of their husbands' commerce. A portrait of Anne Boleyn, by Holbein, is extremely 
curious for its costume, as well as for its historic interest. Opposite is a delicious picture 
of St. Catherine of Sweden, by Carlo Dolci. In the same room is an excellent Albert 
Durer, the ceremony of confirmation in the presence of a French monarch. The Sala 
Paolo is so called from its containing the chef-d' ceim'e of Paul Veronese, Mary Magdalene 
at the feet of our Saviour in the Pharisee's house. The great chapel contains a half- 
length figure of Christ bearing his cross, by Titian." 

One of the greatest palaces here for circuit, is that of the Prince d'Orias, which 
reaches from the sea to the summit of the moimtains. The house is most magnificently 
built without, nor less gloriously furnished within, having whole tables and bedsteads of 
massive silver, tnany of them set with agates, onyxes, cornelians, lazulis, pearlsj turquoises, 



GENOA. 619 

and other precious stones. The pictures and statues are innumerable. To this palace 
belong three gardens, the fii'st being beautified with a terrace supported by pillars of 
marble. There is a foimtain of eagles, and one of Neptune with other sea- gods, all of 
the purest white marble ; they stand in a most ample basin of the same stone. At the 
side of this garden is such an aviary as Sir Francis Bacon describes in his Essays, wherein 
grow trees of more than two feet diameter, besides cypresses, myrtles, lentises, and other 
rare shrubs, which serve to nestle and perch all sorts of birds, who have air and space 
enough under their airy canopy, supported with huge ironwork, stupendous for its fabric 
and the charge. The other two gardens are full of orange-trees, citrous, and pome- 
granates, fountains, grots, and statues. One of the latter is a colossal Jupiter, under 
which is the sepulchre of a beloved dog, for the care of which one of this family received 
of the King of Spain five hundred crowns a year during the life of that faithful animal ! 
The reservoir of water here is a most admirable piece of art, and so is the grotto over 
against it.* 

The Ducal Palace, where the doges once resided, is a large modern building, having 
been almost entirely rebuilt in 1777, when the old palace was nearly destroyed by fire. 
Mr. -Forsyth thought it magnificent even for Genoa, but remarks, that " two balustrades 
break the unity of the front and lessen its elevation." " In the doge's palace," says 
Addison, " are the rooms where the great and little council, with the two colleges, hold 
their assemblies ; but, as the State of Genoa is very poor, though several of its members 
are extremely rich, so one may observe infinitely more splendour and magnificence in 
particular persons' houses, than in those that belong to the public. Andrew Doria has a 
statue erected to him at the entrance of the doge's palace, with the glorious title of 
' Deliverer of the Commonwealth ;' and one of his family, another, that calls him its 
preserver." Eustace asserts, that these statues were thro'wn down and demolished by 
the French. They are now replaced, we are told, by plaster heads and drapery stuJfFed 
with straw. The present senatorial hall is magnificent in point of dimensions, 125 feet 
by 45, and 66 feet in height. It is ornamented with pillars and pilasters of Broca- 
tello marble, supporting a gallery, which is occupied on public occasions by bands of 
music and spectators. Over the door is the iron prow of a Roman galley, which Addison 
mentions as the only antiquity they have to show at Genoa. " It is not above a foot 
long," he says, " and perhaps would never have been thought the beak of a ship, had it 
not been found in so probable a place as the haven. It is all of iron, fashioned at the 
end like a boar's head, as represented on medals, and on the Columiia Rostrata at Rome." 
Another famous curiosity which used to excite the wonder of travellers, an " emerald 
dish," is said to have been broken in its journey either to or from Paris, during the 
recent political changes ; but the loss can scarcely be regretted by the, Genoese themselves, 
if the assertion of M. de la Condamiue be correct, that it was nothing better than glass ! 
" The difierent uses," says Dickensf " to which some of these palaces are applied, all 
at once, is characteristic. For instance, the English banker (my excellent and hospitable 
friend) has his office in a good-sized Palazzo in the Strada ISTuova. In the hall (every 
inch of which is elaborately painted, but which is as dirty as a police-station in London), 
a hook-nosed Saracen's head with an immense quantity of black hair (there is a man 
attached to it) sells walking-sticks. On the other side of the doorwa}"-, a lady with a 
showy handkerchief for head-dress (wife to the Saracen's head, I believe) sells articles of 
her own knitting ; and sometimes flowers. A little further in, two or three blind men 
occasionally beg. Sometimes, they are visited by a man without legs, on a little go-cart, 
but who has such a fresh-coloured, lively face, and such a respectable, well- conditioned 
body, that he looks as if he had sunk into the ground up to his middle, or had come, but 

* Evelyn. t Pictures from Italy. 



620 ITALY. 

partially, up a flight of cellar-steps to speak to somebody. A little fiu'tlier in, a few men, 
perhaps, lie asleep in the middle of the day ; or they may be chairmen waiting for their 
absent freight. If so, they have brought their chairs in with them, and there they stand 
also. On the left of the hall is a little room : a hatter's shop. On the first floor, is the 
English bank. On the first floor also, is a whole house, and a good large residence too. 
Heaven knows what there may be above that ; but when you are there, you have only 
just begun to go up stairs. And yet, coming down stairs again, thinldng of this ; and 
passing out at a great crazy door in the back of the hall, instead of turning the other 
way, to get into the street again ; it bangs behind you, making the dismallest and most 
lonesome echoes, and you stand in a yard (the yard of the same house) which seems to 
have been unvisited by human foot for a hundred years. Not a sound disturbs its repose. 
'Not a head, thrust out of any of the grim, dark, jealous windows within sight, makes the 
weeds in the cracked pavement faint of heart, by suggesting the possibility of there 
being hands to grub them up. Opposite to you, is a giant figure carved in stone, reclining, 
with an lu-n, upon a lofty piece of artificial rockwork; and out of the urn, dangles the 
fag end of a leaden pipe, which, once upon a time, poured a small torrent down the rocks. 
But the eye-sockets of the giant are not drier than this channel is now. He seems to 
have given his urn, which is nearly upside down, a final tilt ; and after crying, like a 
sepulchral child, ' All gone ! ' to have lapsed into a stony silence." 

The Albergo de' Poveri is an institution of great apparent utility, and, at any rate, 
exhibits much public munificence, the beauties of architecture being there united to 
perfect convenience. Fifteen or sixteen hundred individuals, orphans and old people, 
find shelter there, and the latter, especially, sleep single in spacious doi'mitories : they 
are not obliged to work. As to the children, they are brought vip to different trades 
carried on in the house ; and, at a proper age, they are allowed half the proceeds of their 
labour, with which they purchase their own clothing, and part of their food, soup and 
bread only being found in the house. Only forty or fifty children out of the whole 
number (about one thousand) could read and write when Forsyth visited it : the 
reason assigned was, that it Avould require too many masters to teach them all. Genoa has 
several hospitals for the sick of all nations, who are indiscriminately admitted. The 
principal one, founded and supported by private donations, is adorned with numerous busts 
and statues perpetuating the memory of its noble benefactors. It.aflfords space and 
cleanliness. The sick lie single in beds four feet apart, the open space between the 
double row about twenty feet, and the ceilings are very high ; there is not the least offen- 
sive smell, even in circumstances where it might be supposed to be scarcely avoidable. 

"One of the rottenest-looking parts of the town," Dickens observes, "I think, is 
down by the landing- wharf : though it may be, that its being associated with a great deal 
of rottenness on the evening of our arrival, has stamped it deeper in my mind. Here, 
again, the houses are very high, and are of an infinite variety of deformed shapes, and 
have (as most of the houses have) something hangiag out of a great many windows, and 
wafting its frowsy fragrance on the breeze. Sometimes, it is a curtain ; sometimes, it is 
a carpet ; sometimes, it is a bed ; sometimes, a whole line-full of clothes ; but there is 
almost always something. Before the basements of these houses, is an arcade over the 
pavement : very massive, dark, and low, like an old crypt. The stone, or plaster, of 
which it is made, has turned quite black ; and against every one of these black piles, all 
sorts of filth and garbage seem to accumulate spontaneously. Beneath some of the 
arches, the sellers of maccaroni and polenta establish their stalls, which are by no means 
inviting. The offal of a fish-market, near at hand — that is to say, of a back lane, where 
people sit upon the ground and on various old bulk-heads and sheds, and sell fish when 
they have any to dispose of — and of a vegetable market, constructed on the same prin- 
ciple — are contributed to the decoration of this quarter; and as all the mercantile 



GENOA. 621 

business is transacted here, and it is crowded all day, it has si very decided flavour about 
it. The Porto Franco, or Free Port (where goods brought in from foreign countries pay 
no duty until they are sold and taken out, as in a bonded warehouse in England), is down 
here also ; and two portentous officials, in cocked hats, stand at the gate to search you if 
they choose, and to keep out monks and ladies. For, sanctity as well as beauty has been 
known to yield to the temptation of smuggling, and in the same way : that is to say, by 
concealing the smuggled property beneath the loose folds of its dress. So sanctity and 
beauty may, by no means, enter. 

" The streets of Genoa would be all the better for the importation of a few priests of 
prepossessing appearance. Every fourth or fifth man in the streets is a priest or a 
monk ; and there is pretty sure to be at least one itinerant ecclesiastic inside or outside 
every hackney carriage on the neighbouring roads. I have no knowledge, elsewhere, 
of more repulsive countenances than are to be found among these gentrj^ If Nature's 
handwriting be at all legible, greater varieties of sloth, deceit, and intellectual torpor, 
could hardly be observed among any class of men in the world. 

" Mr. Pepys once heard a clergyman assert in his sermon, in illustration of his respect 
for the priestly ofiice, that if he could meet a priest and angel together, he would salute 
the priest first. I am rather of the opinion of Petrarch, who, when his pupil Boccaccio 
wrote to him in great tribulation, that he had been visited and admonished for his 
writings by a Carthusian friar who claimed to be a messenger immediately commissioned 
by Heaven for that purpose, replied, that for his own part, he would take the liberty of 
testing the reality of the commission by personal observation of the messenger's face, 
eyes, forehead, behaviour, and discourse. I cannot but believe rajj-self, from similar 
observation, that many unaccredited celestial messengers may be seen skulking through 
the streets of Genoa, or droning away their lives in other Italian towns. 

" Perhaps the CaiDpuccini, though not a learned bodj', are, as an order, the best friends 
of the people. They seem to mingle with them more immediatelj'-, as their counsellors 
and comforters ; and to go among them more, when they are sick ; and to pry less than 
some other orders into the secrets of families, for the jDurpose of establishing a baleful 
ascendancy over their weaker members ; and to be influenced by a less fierce desire to 
make converts, and once made, to let them go to ruin, soul and body. They may be 
seen, in their coarse dress, in all parts of the town at all times, and begging in the 
markets early in the morning. The Jesuits, too, muster strong in the streets, and go 
slinking noiselessly about, in pairs, like black cats." 

Genoa has long been remarkable for its silk, velvet, and gold-lace manufactures. Its 
exports are fruits, chiefly oranges and lemons, oil, perfumes, jewellery, and artificial 
flowers. Paw silk and cotton are imported from Sicily ; iron and naval stores from the 
Baltic ; linen and sail-cloth from Germany ; wool from Spaiii ; and cottons, tin, load, and 
hardware from Great Britain. 

A singular exhibition is presented by the street of the goldsmiths. Its glittering and 
rich shops are not designed for those who most frequent them in our own land. The 
profusion of gold and silver filigree work, clasps, rings, ear-rings, chains, combs, pearls, 
corals, and even of still more costly gems, are all there for the peasantry. Gold and 
silver ornaments glitter profusely on the persons of the women during the ordinary days 
of toil ; but to these is added an abundance of coral and pearl on days of festivity. 

Although much of the raw silk is imported, the silk- worm is reared in the neighbour- 
hood of Genoa. About five miles up the beautiful valley of the Polcevera, is the village 
of San Quirico, where a large silk-mill has long been established. Many of the 
villages which enliven the road, are embowered in the foliage of the mulberry-tree, and 
sometimes it forms avenues through which the traveller may pass. . The silk- worm is 
reared by the peasants, who dispose of their produce to the mill. The worm that yields 



the vrhite silk is regarded as especially yaluable ; and great care is taken by the rick 
cultivators and the proprietors of mills, to encourage their being separately and vigilantly 
reared, and brought to the highest perfection. The silk, as it comes from the insect, is 
of a pure and glossy whiteness. The climate of Genoa appears particularly favourable to 
the cultivation of silk ; and to the great attention which is bestowed on the cultivation 
and manufacture, Genoa has owed the superiority of her beautiful fabrics. 

The hills which inclose the valley of the Polcevera are rich in marbles. One kind, 
greatly resembling the verd antique, is much esteemed, and is worked at Genoa into 
ornaments of various forms. In the villages an extensive manufacture is carried on of 
maccaroni and vermicelli of every kind and shade. One of the fno ladies of England — a 
sister, perhaps, of the one who was filled with surprise at the sight of a whole cucumber, 
as she said she thought it always grew in slices — asked a gentleman in Paris, who had 
just arrived from Italy, " On what sort of a tree maccaroni grew." Our readers know it 
is made of wheaten flour ; but with the process of manufacture they may not be 
equally acquainted. 

The fact is, that the conversion of the flour — which is somewhat more, coarsely ground 
than that which is intended for bread — into the long, round strings, called maccaroni, is 
eSectcd by a very simple process. With the addition of water alone, the flour is worked 
up into paste, and this is kneaded, for a length of time, by a heavj'-, loaded block of wood, 
which beats into the trough- where the paste is deposited. This block or piston is 
attached to a beam acting as a lever, whose fulcrum is near to the block, while the 
other extremity of the beam is some eight or ten feet from the fulcrum. One or more 
boys seat themselves astride at the further end of this beam, and descending with their 
own weight, and springing up by putting their feet to the ground, give the requisite 
reciprocating motion to the lever. They thus play at see-saw with the block at th-e 
shorter end of the lever ; and the effect produced on the eye of a stranger by a large 
manufactory, where several of these machines, and a number of sturdy fellows, nearly 
naked, and all bobbing up and down, are at work, has something in it exceedingly ludicrous. 

When the paste has been sufficiently Imeadecl, it is forced, by simple pressure, through 
a number of circular tubes, the sizes of which determine the name to be given to the 
substance. That of superior diameter is maccaroni, the smaller is vermicelli, and there 
is a size still smaller, called fedelini. 

The maccaroni is hollow throughout, and lasM-j persons haA^e been puzzled to know 
how it is forced into these long tubes. Nothing is more simple. Over each of the 
larger tubes meant for maccaroni, a small copper bridge is erected, wliich is sufficiently 
elevated to permit the paste to pass iinder it into the tube ; from this bridge depends a 
copper wire which goes right through the tube, and of course leaves the paste tubular. 
There are some minor distinctions in the preparation of these articles which it would be 
tedious to enumerate ; but the material and the process are the same in all. When the 
paste has been forced through the tubes, like wire through a wire- drawer's plate, a 
workman takes up the maccaroni or vermicelli, and lays it across a line to dr3^ From 
the long kneading it has received, the substance is very consistent, and dries in unbroken 
strings that are two or three yards in length. 

The Genoese mix saffron with their paste, which gives it a yellow colour ; but the 
best is manufactured on the coast of the Bay of Kaples, about La Torre del Greco and 
La Torre dell' Annunziata, two towns which the traveller will pass if he visits the ruins 
of Pompeii and Ptcstum. Here the maccaroni works appear in the fullest activity. 
Their productions command higher prices than any maccaroni or vermicelli maniifac- 
tiired in other places, and they are exported in very considerable quantities. The 
Neapolitans, proud of the only manufacture in Avhich they excel, treat with great 
contempt the similar productions of all the rest of Italy. 



GENOA. 623 

As most of tHe Tillages surrounding Grenoa have their peculiar costumes, the scene 
presented there on a market-day is highly picturesque and amusing. Here appears the 
handsome native of Recco, with her fanciful blue boddice trimmed with gold braiding, 
her rose-coloured petticoat, her large gold filigree Maltese cross, and immense bell-shaped 
ear-rings, ranging her elegant osiers and reed baskets, in which are neatly spread the 
purple and white grapes, the rich green fig, or the varied fruit of the succeeding season. 
The villager from the hills towards San Quirico may also be observed with her head 
attired after the fashion of Asti, her substantial striped stuffs, her hard-featured, tanned 
face, exhibiting her maccaroni of every shade and fancy, her filberts, her chesnuts, and 
the berries which seem equally prized by the people as fruit. There, too, are the 
gardeners of difierent villages, in smart jackets, ornamented with silver filigree buttons, — 
each one with his tricote }e]lj-bsi.g cap, whose long tasselled end hangs negligently on one 
shoulder, while his curly black hair adds to the humorous expression of his keen, hand- 
some features, — as they display their vegetables, particularly their artichokes, which 
are in request even at Milan. The Genoese themselves, and the immediate peasantry 
and others, contribute meanwhile, to the effect of the animated and diversified scene. 

We take another characteristic Italian scene from the vivid pencil of Dickens : — " The 
Theatre of Puppets, or Marionetti — a famous company from Milan — is, without any 
exception, the drollest exhibition I ever beheld in my life. I never saw anything so 
exquisitely ridiculous. They look between four and five feet high, but are really much 
smaller ; for when a musician in the orchestra happens to put his hat on the stage, it 
becomes alarmingly gigantic, and almost blots out an actor. They usually play a comedy 
and a ballet. The comic man in the comedy I saw one summer night, is a waiter at an 
hotel. There never was such a locomotive actor, siace the world began. Great pains are 
•taken with him. He has extra joints in his legs ; and a practical eye, with which he 
winks at the pit, in a manner that is absolutely insupportable to a stranger, but which 
the initiated audience, mainly composed of the common people, receive (so they do every- 
thing else) quite as a matter of course, and as if he were a man. His spirits are pro- 
digious. He continually shakes his legs, and winlcs his eye. And there is a heavy 
father with gray hair, who sits down on the regular conventional stage-bank, and blesses 
his daughter in the regular conventional way, who is tremendous. No one would sup- 
pose it possible that anything short of a real man could be so tedious. It is the triimiph 
of art. 

" In the ballet an enchanter runs away with the bride in the very hour of her nuptials. 
He brings her to his cave, and tries to soothe her. They sit down on a sofa (the regular 
sofa ! in the regular place, 0. P. second entrance ! ) and a procession of musicians enter ; 
one creature playing a drum, and knocking himself off his legs at every blow. These 
failing to delight her, dancers appear. Four first ; then two ; the two ; the flesh- 
coloujed two. The way in which they dance ; the height to which they spring ; the 
impossible and inhuman extent to which they pirouette ; the revelation of their prepos- 
terous legs ; the coming down with a pause, on the very tips of their toes, when the 
music requires it ; the gentleman's retiring up, when it is the lady's turn ; and the 
lady's retiring up when it is the gentleman's turn ; the final passion of a pas-de-deux ; 
and the going off with a bound ! — I shall never see a real ballet with a composed coun- 
tenance again. 

" I went, another night, to see these puppets act a play called ' St. Helena, or the 
Death of J^apoleon.' It began by the disclosure of Napoleon, with an immense head, 
seated on a sofa in his chamber at St. Helena ; to whom his valet entered, with this 
obscure announcement : 

" 'Sir Yew ud se on Low ! ' (the oio as in cow). 

" Sir Hudson (that you could have seen his regimentals !) Was a perfect mammoth of a 



624 ITALY. 

man, to IN'apoleon ; hideously ugly ; witli a monstrously disproportionate face, and a great 
clump for the lower jaw, to exjDress his tyrannical and obdurate nature. He began his 
system of persecution, by calling his prisoner ' General Buonaparte ;' to which the latter 
replied, with the deepest tragedy, ' Sir Yew ud se on Low, call me not thus. Repeat 
that phrase and leave me ! I am Napoleon, Emperor of France ! ' Sir Yew ud se on, 
nothing daunted, proceeded to entertain him with an ordinance of the British Grovern- 
ment, regulating the state he should preserve, and the furniture of his rooms ; and 
limiting his attendants to four or five persons. 'Four or five ior me I' said Napoleon. 
' Me ! One hundred thousand men were lately at my sole command ; and this English 
officer talks of four or five for me!' Throughout the piece, Napoleon (who talked verj^ 
like the real Napoleon, and was, for ever, having small soliloquies by himself ) was very 
bitter on "these English officers,' and ' these English soldiers :' to the great satisfac- 
tion of the audience, who were perfectly delighted to have Low bullied ; and who, 
whenever Low said ' Q-eiieral Buonaparte' (which he always did — always receiving the 
same correction) quite execrated him. It would be hard to say why ; for Italians have 
little cause to sympathise with Napoleon, Heaven knows. 

" There was no plot at all, except that a French officer, disguised as an Englishman, 
came to propound a plan of escape ; and being discovered, but not before Napoleon had 
magnanimously refused to steal his freedom, was immediately ordered off' by Low to be 
hanged : in two very long speeches, which Low made memorable, by winding up with 
' Yas ! ' — to show that he was English — which brought down thunders of applause. 
Napoleon was so aifected hj this catastrophe, that he fainted away on the spot, and was 
carried out by two other jDujopets. Judging from what followed, it would appear that he 
never recovered the shook ; for the next act showed him in a clean shirt, in his bed 
(curtains crimson and Avhite), where a lady, preniatureh^ dressed in mourning, brought- 
two little children, who kneeled down by the bed-side, while he made a decent end ; the 
last word on his lips being ' Vaterloo.' 

" It was unspeakably ludicrous. Buonaparte's boots were so wonderfully beyond 
control, and did such marvellous things of their own accord : doubling themselves up, 
and getting under tables, and dangling in the air, and sometimes skating away with him, 
out of all human knowledge, when he was in full speech — mischances which were not 
rendered the less absurd, by a settled melancholy depicted in his face. To put an end to 
one conference with Low, he had to go to a table and read a book : when it was the 
finest spectacle I ever beheld, to see his body bending over the volume, like a boot-jack, 
and his sentimental eyes glaring obstinately into the pit. He was prodigiously good, in 
bed, with an immense collar to his shirt, and his little hands outside the coverlet. So 
was Dr. Antommarchi, represented by a puppet with long lank hair, like Maw worm's, 
who, in consequence of some derangement of his wires, hovered about the couch like a 
vulture, and gave medical opinions in the air. He was almost as good as Low, though 
the latter was great at all times — a decided brute and villain, beyond all possibility of 
mistake. Low was especially fine at the last, when, hearing the doctor and theValet say, 
' The emperor is dead ! ' he pulled out his watch, and wound up the piece (not the 
watch) by exclaiming, with characteristic brutality, ' Ha ! ha ! Eleven minutes to six ! 
, The general dead ! and the spy hanged ! ' This brought the curtain down triumphantly." 

The Italians give the name of Riviera to certain long strips of land extending between 
mountains and the sea coast. The most familiar instance is that of the coast of Gfenoa, 
which is divided into Riviera di Levante, or Eastern Riviera, which extends from the 
city of Genoa to the Gulf of La Spezia, and Riviera di Ponente, or Western Riviera, 
which extends from Genoa to Nizza, or Nice. The Western Riviera is the more fertile 
and populous ; but in the Eastern Riviera, which is generally more rugged and barren, 
there are delightful spots, especially about Nervi and Chiavari. 



NICE. 625 

As the road to Nervi passes mid- way round the steep rocks, there lies beneath the 
traveller a picturesque coast, rendered cheerful with towns, olive-grounds, and the finest 
groves of orange-trees, while palaces, convents, and the most richly- varied foliage, arc 
above and around. The active, commercial, and flourishing to^vn, which is not of great 
extent, is about six miles south-east of Genoa. There are many handsome houses, several 
palaces, and some rich convents in its immediate neighbourhood. Almonds, oranges, 
grapes, and figs arrive at perfection on the apparently flinty rocks, which here rise to a 
tremendous height above the sea. These fruits, with the olives which are not converted 
into oil, as they are in the valleys of the Savona, are exported in exchange for corn. 
Though throughout this lee-shore the swell is sometimes alarming, the surf always high, 
and the rocks dangerous, the port appears to be secure. Votive chapels erected on the 
heights are at once memorials of perils, and of the gratitude of merchants and nobles who 
have been delivered from the waves. The people of Nervi are a handsomer race than 
those of Genoa ; and the dark but clear complexion, with its' keen black eyes, is more 
prevalent than on the western coast. 

Chiavari, beautifully situated in the centre of its bay, is surrounded with hills. The 
Genoese, appreciating its local and natural advantages from the earliest times, surrounded 
it with a strong wall, and gave it many privileges to encourage the resort of merchants, 
who came hither from far to seek its valued products. Salubrious in its climate and soil, 
and with inhabitants regarded as orderly and radustrious, the leprosy has lingered there, 
after passing from the other parts of Italy. The to-wn is flourishing, its church is hand- 
some, and in the neighbourhood there are beautifid villas. 

Mce is pleasantly situated, being bounded on the north by the maritime Alps, and 
open on the south to the sea. The citadel of Mont Albans, on a high and pointed rock, 
overhangs the town, and the Paglion, a mountain torrent, passes it on the west side, 
separating it from the suburbs called La Croix de Marbre, or sometimes the English 
Quarter, from the number of English who resort to it. In this suburb the houses 
are painted externally in fresco, and surrounded with gardens containing standard 
orange and lemon-trees. The town itself is divided into two parts : the old and the new 
town. The streets of the former are narrow ; the latter is better laid out, and the houses 
are painted like those of the English Quarter. There are two squares, one of them 
surrounded with porticoes, and very handsome. Adjacent to the other is a raised terrace, 
which serves as a public walk, and for a defence of the town against the sea. On this 
terrace is a statue of no great skill — the Catherine Seguiran who assisted in defending 
Mce against the Turks. A second promenade is formed by the ramparts of the town. 

The environs of Nice combine all the sublimity of mountain scenery with the beauty of 
the richest cultivation. The vines are here trained horizontally on low sticks, and kept- 
very near the ground, forming a sort of medium between the short bare stems usually 
seen in France, and the luxuriant festoons of the Italian mode of culture. The arbutus 
also arrays the rocky banks with its brilliant and redundant berries, flowers, and foliage ; 
the fig-tree spreads its broad overshadowing leaf; the pomegranate puts forth its 
blushing fruit, relieved by the deep shade of the orange and lemOn-groves ; and then the 
tall palm rises occasionally, adding by its tufted top an eastern air to the landscape ; and 
the aloe throws aloft its gigantic arms. "With such objects the eye of a traveller requires 
some time to become familiar, while if he has never before visited a southern climate, he 
will not fail to regard them with unusual interest, mingled, as they are, with the rich 
vineyards, extensive olive-groves, and the minor productions of Piedmont. The still 
more striking and varied sublimity of the ocean is there also to add its peculiar and 
transcendent charm to the scenery aroimd Nice. For the wide waters of the tideless 
Mediterranean wash the base of the mountains, and stretch away along the coast, fading 
into the blue and aei'ial tints of distance; now apparent in the restless rage of a 

2 s 



tempestuoifs surge, and now reflecting, as in a mirror, tlie tiniest leaf, as well as the 
oversliadowing tree that grows by its side. 

Thus, then, wo have accomplished our purpose, and having described the objects of 
greatest interest in Switzerland, have added to them those for which the traveller will 
do well to seek amidst the regions of JSTorthern Italy. We now bid adieu to this deeply 
interesting country, with the conviction that there are strong indications of a coming 
change in its condition. To quote once more a writer, to whose estimate of Turin 
we have already been indebted : " All Italy is panting for an avvenire. The better 
part of all that deserves to be called her modern literature is occupied with the 
forecasting of The Futukb. It is but lately that we have begun, as a nation, to 
occupy ourselves with the thoughts and feelings, the hopes and fears, the state and 
prospects, of the Italian people. "We were wont to say that Italy had her past and 
her eternity, but no present. It is not so now. We have watched the progress of an 
Italian revolution, begun witha Papal amnesty, and ended with the capitulation of Venice ; 
and since the restoration of the old r^fjime, we have had more than one indication of a spirit 
impatient of the control of pope and kaiser. Italy is looking forward to a future, and 
waiting with ' earnest expectation ' for the development of — she knows not what. 
Shall it be the JIazzinian republic, one and indivisable ? Or the united democratic Italy of 
Gioberti, with the two centres of Borne and Turin ? Or, Rome of the People — the Eome 
of Mccolini — of Cola da Pdenzi — of Arnaldo da Brescia ? Or, shall a reformed pope, 
laying aside his triple crown, dwell apart in some sacred city, the president of a 
joermanent Idrk-session of friars, monks, and bishops, according to the programme of 
Tommaseo ? Or, shall some monarch of the house of Savoy consoKdate the kingdoms and 
duchies of the peninsida into one powerful empire, and raise Italy again to her old 
pre-eminence ? The only point on which all agree is this, that the old systems are 
worn out, and that Italy has need of new principles." * 

" The truth has sprung up in Italy, but not from the bruised seed of the Reformation. 
It is true, some use has been made of the memorials of other days, and by none better 
than the descendants of the exiles of the sixteenth century. The banished men of Lucca 
are returning in their children's children. The Bible that is now read is Diodati's. The 
lady who did so much for the truth in Tuscany, before our evangelical work had been 
heard of, was a Calandrini. In this way the land is receiving back its banished. But 
in general the influences that are at work are modern. We cannot refer to them at 
length, but we must specify first of all the great historic demonstration that has been 
given of the papacy, and given in such a way as to destroy the faith of the nation in that 
system of which the pope is the political head. Reforming Italy can no longer trust in 
a pope. The compatibility of the papacy with civil liberty was tried in the most 
favourable circumstances ; the hour had come, and the man ; and never since the days of 
the Lombard League had a pope arisen to such an elevation as Pius IX. When he 
protested against the occupation of Ferrara, and threatened to arm his subjects in defence 
of the papal territory, he became in popular estimation a new St. Leo, going forth to 
meet another Attila, or rather a new Alexander, ready to stand forth against another 
Barbarossa. To the papal influence in Italy the recoil has been most fatal; and on 
minds so prepared, the good seed of the word of God has not fallen in vain. It has 
taken root in Tuscany, in Piedmont, in Rome ; and the cases of Coimt Guicciardini and 
the two Madiai (to name no others) show that the increase has been to the glory of God. 
To enter into this matter would require a volume — a volume, however," which the 
wi'iter adds, as he shows that if any good is to be done, it must be without noise or note 
of invasion, " v\'hioh had better not be written." 

* North British Review. 



INDEX. 



Aav, the, 5 ; Lower, 154 


Alpine passes, 527 


227; biidc-e over, 232 


— pastures, 279 


237, 213, 251; 277, 29S 


— plants and vegeta- 


great fall of, 301 ; gla 


tion, 111 


ciers ot; 306, 31,5, 319 


— scenery, described. 


328, 331, 311, 33-1, 367 


6,10, 211 


383, 391, 407, 486 


— shower, 41 


Aarau, 403 


— woodman, 217 


Aarburg, 3S8, 394 


— woodcutters, 219 


Aargau, the, 352, 367,406; 


Alpinula, Julia, story of, 


<;anton described, 408, 


327 


418, 422 ; peace of, 423 ; 


Alpnaoh, slide, 218, 354 


council, 434, 442, 463 


Alps, the, extent of, form, 


Abendberg, hospice of,216 


divisions, variety of cli- 


Abschwung, the, 315-17, 


mate and aspect, 4 ; 


319 


mountains and valleys 


Achsenberg, the, 345 


of, 5 ; snow-fields of, 6 ; 


Adda, the, 460 ; source of, 


winter in, 7, 85, 88 ; sea 


472, 514 ; valley, 615, 


of, 91; line of, 108; 


523, 557, 580, 582, 695 


desceatof, 130, 139,160, 


Adelboden, the, 228 


174, 226, 246; grand 


Adige, the source of, 473 ; 


appearance of, 294 ; val- 


valley, 514, 527, 532, 


leys of, 371, 383, 469 ; 


658 ; bridge, 562 


glimpse of, 398, 425; 


Adriatic, the, 220, 527, 


bleacher in, 469 ; butter 


632, 534, 542, 582, 611 


of, 487, 527, 632, 656, 


Advice to travellers, 208 


680, 582,601, 611; fare- 


Agassiz, 146; ascent of 
Jungfrau, 262; excur- 


weU to, 613 


Alps, Bernese, 4, 90, 193, 


sions, 306 


239, 242, 261, 274, 323, 


Aigle, 34, 374 


6.11 ' ' ' ' 


Aiguille de Charmoz, 59 


Alps, Blumlis, 267 


— du Geant, 148 


— Cottian, 90, 611 


— deDreux,-286 


— Glarus, 173, 366 


— de la Sassiere, 119 


— Graian, 90 


— de laVanoise, 119 


— Helvetian, 90 


— de Varens, 42, 43, 


— Italian, 203, 205 


70,79 


- Julian, 472 


~ — Noire, 152 


— Lepontine, 4, 691 


— duBuchard, fo- 


— Maritime, 90 


rest, 54 


- Noric, 471 


— du Godte, G7, 71, 78 


— Oberland, 43, 459; 


— du Midi, 43, 71, 74, 


Ober Alp, see 459 


79, 93 


Alps, Pennine, 4, 90, 173 


— Sans Nom, S3 


— Khsetian, 328, 342, 


Aiguilles Kouges, 43, 55, 


369, 371, 657 


68, 70, 90, 160 


Alps, Sanetsch, 369 


Albert, emperor, 335 


— Savoy, 42, 164, 173 


— duke, 432, 442 


— Suren, 345, 363 


Albhien, village, 203 


— Swiss, 266 


Albis, the, 365, 368, 434, 


— Tyrolese, 372 


444 


— Upper, 482, 487 


Albula, the, 455, 469; pass 


— Wahl, 231 


described, 482 


— ■Wengern,243,269,271 


Alessandria, description 


Altdorf, 351, 365, 445 


of, 615 


Alveneu, baths, 469 


Aletsch-Horner, peaks of, 


Amusements of the Pea- 


193 


santry, 293 


— glacier, 186, 261 


Amphion, the,waters of, 33 


Alexander III., church of, 


Ancona, 611 


550, 615 


Andermatt, 347, 459 


— IV., pope, 568 


Angel's Stone, 181 


- v., 413 


Angstenberg, the, 446 


— pope, 635 


Aosta, 90; valley and 


Alleraanni, the, 328, 444 


duchy, 103 ; peasants 


Allinges, les, ruins of, 33 


of, 104; city, 105; 


AUee Blanche, the, 111, 


valley, 119, 122, 148, 


115, 117, 120, 148 


245, 611 


Alpbach, 298 


Apennines, the, 4, 85, 90, 


Alpenstock, the, 52 


632, 680 


Alpine animals, 160 


Appenzellers, 294, 420 


— horn, 269 


Apriga, Col, 472 



Appenzell, canton, 372, 
417, 419, 423; descrip- 
tion of, 424 ; its rejec- 
tion of Zvvingie's doc- 
trines, 436, 4G2, 464, 
500, 508 

— , reformers in, 371 
Arau, conference at, 387 
Arc, the valley of, 120 
Argenticre, the, 52, 68 
Ariosto, house of,,,.o81, 610 
Arnold, 335 <.' 

— ofRothley, bp., 402 

— Struthaji, Winkel- 
ried, 339 

Arn-Stofs, described, 424 

Arqua village, 576 

Arth, vale, 358 ; village, 

Arve, the, river and val- 
ley, 39 ; river, 59, 70,174 

Arveiron, the, 39 ; source, 
54 ; cavern, 55, 69, 66 

Augsburg, dier, 379, 421, 
431 

Augusta Praetoria Juliae, 
106 
— Salassbrum, 105 

Auldjo, Mr., quoted, 69 ; 
visit Of sheep to, 71 ; 
no crevasses, 74 ; ascent 
of Mont Blanc, SO ; suf- 
ferings of, 87, 92 ; des- 
cent from Mont Blanc, 
91 ; on the dangers of 
ascent of, 94 

Austria and Austrians, 
4 ; garrison, 105, 134, 
173 ; struggle with the 
French, 303 ; aggres- 
sions of, 338 ; defeat, 
370, 426 ; victory, 444 ; 
overbearing conduct, 
462, 489, 493 ; growing 
power, 619 ; recognition 
of claims of the Grisons, 
523 ; douaniers, 527, 641, 
558 ; defeat of, at Ma- 
rengo, 615 

— duke of, 371 

— emperor of, 614 
Austria, house of, 334, 

470, 489, 493 ; designs 

agamst, 621, 599 
Auternc, Col de, 46 
Aven, village of, 178 
Aventicum, 327 ; medals 

from ruins of, 392 
Avers, valley of, 461 
Baden, description of,328, 

368,412,422,423,499,610 
Baeohen-Hselzli, 232 
Bagnes, Val du, 97 ; 

people of, 100, 146 
Bairis, Mont des, 120 
Bahnarusa, rock of, 62 
Balmat, Jacques, ascent of 

Mont Blanc, 67 
Balme, Col de, grotto of, 

39,57,64, 70, 88,91,95, 

108, 148 
Barm, Louis, of Vaud,341 



Barbarossa, Frederick, 
635,550,555,698,605,615 
Barry, Dr., quoted, 58, 69 ; 
narrow escape of, 74 ; 
his view from the Mulets 
at night, 80 ; view from 
Mont Blanc, 88 
B asilia, fortress of, 3 99, 402 
Bale, 90, 195; plums, 232; 
description of, 323 ; re- 
formers, 371 ; bishop of, 
383, 387; described, .398, 
406-3,412,431,510,611 
Baumans, the, ascent of 

Jungfrau, 262 
Bavers, account of, 598 
Beaufoy's ascent of Mont 

Blanc, 69 
Beauharnois, Eugene, 599, 

603 
Bella, Isola, description 

of, 588 
Bellagio, 582 
Bellinzona, 351 ; siege of, 

368, 392 
Benedictine abbev, 459, 

673 
Bercsal, inn of, 193 
Bergamesque sheep, 481 
Bergamo, description -of, 

481 
Berglistoek, the, 323 
Bergun valley, 461, 482 
Bernardino road, 460, 479 
Berne and the Bernese, 4; 
promenade of, 88 ; peaks 
of, 90,104,179,217,222; 
general description of 
the canton, 227, 260 ; 
authorities of, 278, 294, 
290, 303, 333, 336, 338 ; 
history and description 
of,341,3S3,432; encamp- 
ment before, 342 ; tra- 
vellers from, 368, 367; 
achievements, 368 ; re- 
formers, 371, 379, 398, 
406, 408 ; troops, 422, 
423, 462, 504, 507, 519 
Berne, old canton of, 463 

— French, 503 

Bernese Oberland, 174, 

227, 239, 256, 261, 278, 

354, 383 

Berninapas3described,493 

Bernonli family, account 

of, 403 
Berthier, general, 127 ; 

proclamation, 130, 478 
Beune, 479 
Bex, 158, 175, 195, 374; 

salt-works, 499 
Bexvieux, 500 
Biel, 377 

Bienne, lake, 37, 367 ; de- 
scription of the town, 

Bionnafoy, glacier de, 67 
Birds on Alpine regions, 

164 
Black League, the, 370 
Bletschbach river, 257 



Elane, Mont, 2, 4 ; ascent 
of, 12, 17; described, 18, 
21, 29; escarpments of, 
42 ; from Buet, 43, 46, 
55, 58, 62, 64; from the 
Grand Mulets, 78; by 
moonliglit, 80 ; expe- 
riences of its climbers, 
88; descent of, 91, 97, 
101, 107, 115, 117; by 
moonliglit, 120, 123, 144, 
148, 173, 184, 213, 242, 
260, 324, 611 

Boden, Im, 299, 301 

Bodmer, John and Jacob, 
account of, 435 

BcEotia, 331 

Bohemia, 412; excitement 
on Jerome's death, 416 ; 
hills, 630 

Bois, Glacier, 45, 95, 155 

Bolca, Monte, 566 

Bologna, republic of, 568 

Boltigen, 34 

Bon Homme, 42 

BonneTille, 39, 41 

Bonnivard, Francois de, 27 

Bons, Tillage of, 33 

Bormio, 466, 490, 514 ; 
people of, 519, 522 

Borromean islands, 591 

Borromeo, St. Charles, 599 
— Charles F., 600 

Bossi Guiseppe, 604 

Bossons, the, glaciers of, 
45, 52; glacier des, 71, 
83, 324 

Bourrit, 67 ; unsuccessful 
attempt to ascend Mont 
Blanc, 08 

Boveret, Port de, 31 

Bragathion, column of, 35 1 

Bragel, Mont, 464 

Braglio, Mont, inn and 
custom-house, 514 

Bramante, 587, 005 

Bramberg, the, 342 

Breitenger, 435, 438 

Breithorn, 174 ; peaks, 
193, 262 

Brcgenz, 411, 421 

Brembo, the, 580 

Brenner, la, mountains, 
186; glacier, 148 

Bremgai-ten, 368, 422 

Brenner pass, 479 

Brenva, la, 150 

Brenta, 532, 544, 507, 570 

Brevent, the, IS, 43, 52 ; 
Mont, 55, 70, 78, 85, 93, 
108, 123, 164 

Brevera, glacier, 116 

Brieg, 184, 187, 193, 195 

Brienz, 217 ; lake, 226, 
239, 246, 274, 323,391; 
town, 251, 277, 296 

Browne, Mr. J. H., 69 ; 
ascent of Mont Blanc, 86 

Brugg, 219 

Brunig, pass of, 296, 298, 
323, 342 

Buch, M. de, 455 

Buchcck, counts of, 406 

Buet, Mont, summit of, 
43, 46, 72, 79, 90 

Buondelmonte, 556 

Burgener's, Hildehrand, 
ascent of Jungfrau, 262 

Burglen, 346, 391 



Buonaparte, Napoleon, 43, 
126; passage of Great 
St. Bernard, 127, 478, 
130 ; at Marengo, 135 ; 
opinion of Desaix, 136, 
186, 190, 435-463; mis- 
led, &c., 471 ; unworthy 
remarks on Macdonald's 
passage of St. Bernard, 
479,523; and the French 
Directory ; answer to 
Barras, 539; at Milan, 
604, 611. (See also Na- 
poleon.) 
Burgoyne, Upper, 342 
Burgundy, French, 495 

— mountains, 67 

Burgujjjl'-in Switzerland, 

328 ;' empire, 379 
Burgundians, 328,444,538 
Buxtorfs, account of, 403 
Cachat, Fran9ois, 86 
Cffisar, 91 ; first military 
exploit cf, 326, 526, 
175, 580 
Calandrinus, Scipio, ac- 
count of, 5 1 5 
Calendar, the, 404 
Calotte do Mont Blanc, 12 
Calvin, 19, 371 ; account 
of, 379 ; church of, 403 ; 
time of, 60S 
Calypso, island of, 34 
Cambray, league, 538 
Campagnol des Nigross, 

274 
Campanile, the, 547 
Campo Dolcenos, 476 

— Formio, 641 
Can Grande, tomb, 565 
— Signiores, tomb, 665 
Cappel, battle-field of, 378 

Capulets, 553; monuments 
of, 565 

Carignano, palace of, 607 

Carinthia, 631 

Carita, 650 

Carrus.i family, the, 569 ; 
tomb of, 575 

Catania, inhabitants of, 100 

Chiavenna, 403, 466, 474, 
481 ; description of, 515, 
519, 622, 526 ; lake, 582 

Chiavari, 624 

Chillon, castle of, 27, 389 

City of the Sea, 522 

Civitas Sedunorum, 179 

Clarens, Tillage of, 26 ; 
vineyard, 126 

Clusts, town of, 39 

Coire, 446, 462, 479, 481, 
486, 490, 498, 509, 520 ; 
bishop of, 369, 460 ; de- 
scribed, 464, 469, 473 

Cogne, heights of, 91 ; 
montagne de, 119 

CoUon, Col de, 146 ; dead 
bodies under the preci- 
pices of, 147 

Colonne de Joux, 121 

Cols, 101 

Columella, 328, 419; com- 
panion of, 442 

Colunma Kostrata, 619 

Comasques, the, 581, 687 ; 
palaces of the, 485 ; im- 
der arms, 422 ; war 
between, 515 



Catullus, birthplace of, 
558; residence of, 582 _ 
Celtic race, early inhabi- 
tants of Helvetia, 326 
Cenacolo, 606 
Cenis, Mont, 90, 174, 186, 

479 
Cerens, 328 
Cernetz described, 490 
Cervin, the, 123, 174; 

Monte, 119, 611 
Cex, Porte de, 31 
Chablais, the, 33 
Chalets described, 279 
Chalets of AroUa, 148 
Chalons, 16, 176 ; house of, 

381 
Charaberg, church at, 608 
Chamber!, 91,178; nurse- 
ries, 232 
Chamois hunter's cabin, 
143; and its hunters, 160 
Chamouni, valley of, 39 ; 
described, 44, 62, 64, 67, 
70,78,87,90;inn,94,95, 
97, 149, 179, 611 
Champagne, plains, 406 
Charlemagne, 333, 436 ; 
thesmall, 341,555, 562; 
death of, 594 
Charles, archduke, 444-63 
Charles Emanuel III., 105 
Charles IV., 432 
Charles V., 378, 530, 570 
Charles, prince, 402, 412, 

598 
Charmotane glaciers, 124 
Charmoz, 153; hill, 155 
Charpentier, M., 600 
Chateaux d'Aux, 34 
ChatUlon, 103, 105, 611 
Charles le Xe'meraire, prie 

dieu of, 392 
Chasms, formation of, 154 
Chede, cascade of, 43 
Cheesemaker, Swiss, 287 
Chetif, Mont, 120, 160 
Combal, lake of. 111, 115 
Como, lake of, 472, 516 ; 
description of, 582 ; val- 
ley of, 515 ; steamboats 
of, 582 
Constance, lake of, 173, 
236, 358, 365, 371, 391, 
409,411, 417, 419, 421, 
434,447,466,423 ; bishop 
of, 334, 419; council of 
war of, 367 ; account of, 
411, 431, 479 
Constantine, emperor, 124, 

456, 695 
Contamines, village, 42 
Contra da Nuova, 607 

— del Po, 607 

— di Marengo, the, 
hotel in, 615 

Corso Nuovo, 627 

Cote, Mer de la, 86 

Coulon's ascent of Strah- 
leck, 311 

Courmayeur, 42, 108, 110 ; 
scene in valley of, 117, 
120, 134, 148 

Couste, 416 

Coutet, Marie, 13, 72; 
Jean Mario, 75, 84, 92, 
117, 152; Simon, 69 

Couvercle, rock, excur- 
sion to, 62 



116, 



Cramont, the, 

120, 149 
Cremona, description, 579 
Cretinism, 104 
Cretins, the, 244, 247 ; in- 
stitution, 248 
Cul-de-Sac, valley, 199 
Dala, the, gorge, 199 ; tor- 
rent, 203 
Danube, the, 173, 220, 
331, 469; vaUey of, 471 
Dauben See, 205 
Dauphine', valley, 120 
Davos, valley, 467 
D'Aubigne, T. A., 20 
Debacle, a, 97 
DeCandoUe, 18, 22, 114 
De Cayrol, 136 
De Cashron, J., 479, 507 
Delia Paglia, 615 
D'Etrces, Mary, 490 
D'Esche, Chev., 376 
D'Este, village of, 686 
Delemont, town, 298 
De Longuevilles, the, 381 
Dent d'Erin, 119 

— duMidi, 27, 175 

— des Morcles, 175 



Dernier Kochers, 85 

Desaix, tomb of, his march 
into Egypt, &c., 132; 
death of, 135 ; transport 
of his remains to St. 
Bernard, 137, 616 

Desolation, valley of, 132 

Desor, M., ascent of Jung- 
frau, 264 ; quoted, 302, 
310 ; ascent of the 
Strathleck, 311, 315 

De Stael, Madame, 22 

Diablerets, the, 90, 178 

Dischma, valley, 469 

Dole, the, 16, 173 

Dome du GoCuc, 04, 60, 
71, 78, 80, 83 

Dominicans and Francis- 
cans, strife between, 
372 ; cemetery at Basle, 
405, 562; convent of,603 

Domo d'Ossola, 179 

Domleschg valley, 464 

Dora, the, 610 

DoraBaltea,the, 105, 120; 
Boui-cc, 107, 115 

Dora Grassa, 607 

Doria, Andrea, 619 
— duke of, palaceof, 618 

Dorias, 610 

Douane, the, 34 ; a, 95, 97 

Doveria, the, 198 

Dranse, the, 33 ; overflow 
of, 97, 124, 126, 137, 
146, 179 

Durance, valleyof, 120,174 

Durazzi, the, 618 

Durazzo, palace of, de- 
scription of, 618 

Eboulements, montagnes 
des, 148, 220 

Eiger, the, 11, 90, 246, 
257, 261; peaks, 269, 
271, 276, 312, 314, 323 

Einsiedebi, valley of, 
monks of, 333, 360,366; 
chapter of, 419, 434 ; 
superstition connected 
with abbey of, 510 



EcheUes, les, 286 
Emmenthal, the, 383 
Employment of the Swiss, 

286 
Engadine, yalleys, 173; 
forests, the, 222, 3fi9, 
461 ; Upper, 469, 479, 
481; account of, 486; 
Lower, 490, 518 
Engelhorner, the, 323 
Enghi, the, 39 i 
Engiberg, the, 478 
Engineering exploits in 

Alpine districts, 253 
Engstligenthal, 227 
Entremon, Val, 124 
Eiitlibuch, 354, 407 
Entreves, Vale d', 115; 
village, glacier, 117, 148 
Erasmus, annotations of, 
373 ; epitaph, 402, 404 ; 
portrait of Eloge de la 
Folic', 405 ; Greek Tes- 
tament of, 435 
Erlach, abbey of, 88, 341 
Erlenbach, 227, 302 
Eschen, catastrophe to, 72 ; 

monument, 43 
Eschenthal, valley, 425 
Facinocan, castle of, 425 
Faido, rocks of, 347 
Fardun, governor of, 461 
Farel, 19 ; sepulcliral stone 
of, 37, 371; account, 374, 
377, 379 
Faucigny valley, 495 
Faulhorn, the, 79, 90, 274; 

storm on, 275, 312 
Felix, King Charles, 610 
Fellenberg, M. de, 396 
Fenetre, Col de, 149 
Ferrara, 568, 579, 581 
Ferrera, Val de, 450 
Ferret, Col de, 115; Val 
de, 117, 120; forest, 124, 
126; Piedraontese val- 
ley, 148 ; Petit, 149 
Feudal tower, 124; system 

in Switzerland, 330 
Fido, 185 
Fiera, the, 581 
Finister-aar-Horn, 90,174, 
262, 275, 277, 310, 318, 
319, 323, 359, 392 
Finister-aar, glacier of,311 
Fii- forests, 215 ; rafts, 220 
Finme di Latte, 583 ; cause 

of conjectured, 586 
Flavins, arch of, 561 
Flax, cultivation of, 291 ; 

weaver, 292 
Fle'gere, the, 52, 108 
Flesch, the, 446 
Fluella, pass of, 115; 
valley and Col des- 
cribed, 469 
Fluellen, 344, 347 
Forbes, Mr., quoted, 10 ; 
ascent of Col du Geant, 
117, 144 ; enterprise of, 
146 ; passage of Col du 
Ferret, 148 ; conclusion 
of his remarkable enter- 
prise, 152 ; on the struc- 
ture of a glacier and 
various phenomena, 165 ; 
quoted, 159, 164, 202; 
directions to tourists, 
210, 245, 262, 290, 310 



Forclaz, the, 42, 97 

Forests of Switzerland, 
214 ; ice-storms, 215 

Fontanet, Pierre, 75 

Foron, the, 39 

Fountains, the Seven, 227 

France and the French, 
4, 19, 90 ; army on St. 
Bernard's, 105, 186, 
409; defeat of, at Ma- 
rengo, 135, 173, 191 ; 
revolution alluded to, 
278; proceedings of, 364, 
463; designs of, 387, 
398; emigrants, 399; re- 
public of, memorable 
year in, 405, 406 ; occu- 
l^ation of Switzerland, 
436, 487; troops, 490, 
505 ; republic, 539 ; first 
arrival at Venice, 545, 
555 ; at Verona, 55S, 609 
— Emperor and Em- 
press of, fete at Ma- 
rengo, 616 

Francis I., 599 

Franconia, 556 

Frauenfeld, 418 

Frederick I., 466, 580 

— ir., 341, 567 

— 111,370 

— the Great, 406 

— WilliamGeorge 
prince of Orange, of 
Nassau, 575; of Austria, 
367 ; of Prussia and the 
treaty of Bale, 405 

French Scriptures, the, 
first protestant edition 
of, 381 

Fretz, Mont, glacier of, 
148 

Freyburg, tradition con- 
cerning lime-tree at, 34 ; 
suspension-bridge, 35, 
227 ; city and inhabit- 
ants, 341, 369, 383, 388, 
390, 406, 433 

Frohn Alpe, 340, 511 

Fruit season in Switzer- 
land, 236 

Fruit-trees of S witzerland, 

Frutigen, village, 226 
Funguena, village, 224 
Furca, the, 90, 173, 185, 

303, 347, 351 
Fusina, 544 
Gaiss, 424 
Galanda, 454 
Gallcnstock, 173 
Galileo, scene of his ob- 
servations, 547, 570 
Gairie, arch of, 561 
Garda, Lago di, 582, 587 
Gauli glacier, 323 
Gauther, Pont du,' 193 
Geant, the, 68; Col du, 
85, 91, 115; ascent of, 
171, 120, 146, 148, 151; 
glacier du, 153 
Gemmi, the, 90, 97 ; pass, 
199; defence of, 203; 
lake of, 205, 211, 226 
Genevre, Mont, 611 
Genoa, 90, 681; history 
and description, 590,610 
German Switzerland, 328 
Geneva, lake of, 17, 24, 



101, 126, 174, 20G, 328, 
358, 387 
Geneva, city described, 18; 
historical associations, 
19 ; university, 20 ; its 
watch-manufacture, 22 ; 
canton, 34, 52, 91, 130, 
134, 173 ; nurseries of, 
232, 330, 332, 371 ; Re- 
formation in, 374 ; Pro- 
testantism in, 379; 404 ; 
republic, 421, 424, 43 «, 
503 ; jewellery, 505 ; 
description of, 506 ; 
■women of, fOS, 523 
Germany, 4, 186, 234 ; 
dukes of, 331; plains, 
347; Reformation in, 
371, 376, 394,396, 421; 
commerce with Zurich, 
436, 438, 474, 479 ; civil 
war in, 529, 550; forests; 
emperors, 555, 621 
Gessler, 335; death of, 

337, 345,391 
Gessner, Solomon, 437 
Getroz, glacier, 146 
Ghibelines, 555, 567, 617 
Giacomo, Val sas, 582 
Giant, Little and Great, 

269 
Giessbach, 88, 240; cas- 
cade, 251; falls of, 278 
Giotto's portrait of St. 
Anthony, 572 ; Madon- 
na, 579 ; paintings in 
freestone, 675 
Giulio Romano, 573 
Glacier, life on a, 308 
Glaciers, 7, 74 ; common 
form, Switzerland, 153 
Glarnisch, the, 366, 442 
Glarus, canton of, de- 
scribed, 246, 287, 330, 
335, 351, 365, 367, 370, 
420, 426 ; mountains of, 
434 ; reformation in, 435, 
439, 442, 445, 460 ; 
people of, 462, 464 
Glau, canton of, 461 
Gletscher heights, 268 
Gletscherhorn, 226 
Glyss, town of, 184, 187 
God's House, League, 465 
Goethe's approach to Cha- 

mouni, 46, 88 
Goitres, 104, 244 
Goldau, village of, 358, 

362 ; valley of, 366 
Gondo, defile of, 187 ; 

gorge of, 190, 198 
Goodall, Mr. A., 69 ; as- 
cent of Mont Blanc, 86 
Gottfried Mind, account 

of, 507 
Gotteron, valley of, 35 
Goutrans, the, 331 
Gradus {oi Grade), Isle 

of, 533 
Grand Canal, Venice, 543 
Granbundten, 460, 462 
Great Hospital, 606 
Greuier, Mont, 178 
Grey League, 459, 462, 468 
Gries, the, 302 
Grimsel, the, 173, 185, 
277 ; ascent of, 298, 
351; heights of the, 391; 
hospice of, 303, 318 



Grindelwald, val. of, 227, 
240, 262, 270; climate, 
natural history, &c., 271, 
312 ; glacier, 311, 322 

Grison country, league, 
173,222, 371, 412, 421, 
446, 454, 459 ; diet, 465, 
497, ■ 508, 514 ; federal 
republic, 468, 470, 486, 
510; army, 473, 376,479; 
people of, 480 ; storm 
in, 482 ; troops, 515 ; 
account of, 519, 523,580 

Groningen, 403; bailifi; 433 

Grubenmann constructs a 
bridge at Schaff'hausen, 
409, 423 

Griinhorn, 262 

Grusch, 469 

Grusisberg, 230 ; lord of, 
338 

Grutli spring, 330 

Gruybres, 35, 289, 490 

Guelphs, 555, 567, C17 

Guggenbuhl, Dr., 246 

Guides of Chamouni, 53 

Guidiziati, 561 

Gundoldingen, death of, 
310 

Gutanen, 301 

Guy Fuerbity, 376 

Hamel's, Dr.,. ascent ot 
Mont Blanc, 12 

Handeck, falls of, 88, 302 

Hannibal, 91 ; passage of 
the -\lps, 121 ; army of, 
130; expedition of, ,267, 
352, 611 

Hapsburg castle, 331, 335 ; 
house of, 367, 3B9, 460 ■ 

Harder, the, 240 

Harderberg, the, adven- 
tures on, 243, 406 

Hasli, valley of, 227 ; na- 
tural history, 277 ; cas- 

— Upper, valley, de- 
scription of, 277, 298 ; 
Lower, 391 

Haut Rhin, the, 383 
Heisseplatte, the, 314 
Helvetia, andtheHelvetii, 
ancient history of, 326, 
371,419; Northern, 431; 
rulers in, 460 , 
Helvetic confession, 510 
Helvetic geography, idea 
of, 4; league, 387; con- 
federation, 463 
Henry of Werdenberg, 462 
Hem-y I., emp., 332, 431 

— II., " 333, 419 

— IV., " 331, 490, 
598 

— VII., " 402, 406 

— VIII., picture of, by 
Holbein, 405 

Herdsmen, Alpine, 287 

Hildesheim, 347 

Hinter Rhein, the, 455 ; 

glaciers of, 474 
Hoflriicke, the, 354 
Hofwyls, 396 
Hohenwell and Stein 

Abbey, 419 
Hola valley, 469 
Holbein, Dance of Death, 

354;accomitof,404, 618 
Horniing, 507 



IloUen Piatt, or Infernal 
Table, 302 

Hospice of the Simplon, 
193 

Hospital, Tillage, 317 

Hugi, 116, 154, 275, 300 

Hugs, John, 367 ; account 
of, 412; Bible and dun- 
geon, 41 G 

Ibex, the, 163 

Ice-storm, 215 

Ilantz, 4G1, 498 

Illankin, the, 4U 

Illiers, Val d', 158 

Im Ilof, Tillage of, 299 

Imsubrians, country of, 122 

Inden, 301 

Industria, town, 609 

Inn, the Talley of, 173, 
369, 460, 469 ; upper 
Talley described, 480, 
491 ; the, 486, 488, 490 

Ino, church, 377 

Inspruok, 427, 490, 531 

Interlachen, 217, 226, 23S, 
262, 325, 383 

Iseran, Mont, 90, 101, 119, 
123 

Isere, the, 119; Talley of, 
121, 174 

Isola, San Larazzo, 550 

Isola, Tillage, 474 ; pass 
to, 475 

Istria, 534 ; marble of, 539 
Italian states of Austria, 
514 

— Tyrol, the, 472 
■ — Talleys, 3S6; pnets, 
438; protestants, 493 
Italy, 4, 104 ; fate of de- 
cided, 136, 175,186, 190, 
278, 302, 332, 347, 364, 
369, 382 ; commerce 
Avith Zurich, 431, 436, 
438, 446, 460, 463, 467, 
471, 474, 487, 498, 505 ; 
fruit trees of, 523 ; east- 
ern coast, 532, 533, 550, 

Ivrogne, Tillage of, 103 

Jardin, the, 52 ; ascent of, 
62, 85, 153, 155; des 
Plantes. 304 

Jerome of Prague, 307 ; 
account* of, 415 

Jesuits, the, church of, 
408; the, 510, 621 

Jorasse, Grand, 115, 120, 
148 

Jorasses, precipices and 
glaciers, 148 

Jorea, 103, 108, 351 

JoTet, Mont, 105 

Joy, or JoTct, Mont, 42 

Juchliberg, the, 319 

Jungfrau, 11, 88, 90, 174, 
205, 237 ; hotel of, &c., 
239 ; aTalanches, 243, 
246, 257 ; first ascent of, 
260 ; second ascent of, 
262 ; pgaks, 269, 276, 
312, 319, 323, 359, 383, 
392 

Jura mountains, the, 16 ; 
grandeur of, 18, 37, 39, 
44,78; chainof, 90, 149, 
158, 164, 173, 328, 342, 
371, 374, 387, 398, 406, 
493, 503 



Julier pass, 481 . 
Juliet's tomb, 565- 
Julius, pope, 373 

column of, 481 
Kallihorn ridge, 261 
Kandersteg Talley, 211 
— Tillage, 266 
Katzis Tillage, 509 
Kauffman, Angelica, ac- 
count of, 407 
Kienthal, tlic, 226 
Kientzigthal, the, 445 
Kientzigkoulm, 365, 445 
Klauseu pass, 164 
Kleine Btythe, 364 
Klijn, the, 443 
Klonthal, lake, 443 
Klus iron-works, 408 
Krauhenthal pass, 463 
Kusnacht bay, 362 
La Bosse du Dromedaire, 

64 
La Croix, 127 
Liickinen, 163 
Laghetto, the, 515 
Lago Maggiore, 187, 190, 

347 
Laguna, Lagoon, 532, 544 
L'Ai^lc, hotel de, 315 
La Marche, 390 
Landesgemeinde, 331 
Landslips, 220 
Langin, tower of, 33 
Lannes, the, 127, 130, 133, 

135 
Lannes, marshal, 616 
Lanquart, torrent, 469 
Lanslebourg, 119 
La Sarra, defile of, 514, 523 
La Superga, 608 
La Roifia, cliffs of, 474 
Latinos, lieights, 205 
La Torre del Greco, 622 

— ■ dell' Annuzi^ita, 622 
La Tuile Tillage, 121 
Laudenburg, 335 
Laufen,the, furnace of, 409 
Lauffenberg, 427 
Lausanne, 25, 232, 332,388 
Lauteraar, Col de, 319 : 

glacier, 323 
Lauterbrimnen, Talley of, 
227, 237, 252, 265, 272 ; 
cure, 287, 319 
Lavater, account of, 437 
Lax, Tillage, 185 
Lcchaud, glacier de, 62, 

148, 163 
Leidelhorn, the, 319 
Leinmat, 366 
Leman, lake, 24, 44, 78, 
91, 233, 371; delinea- 
tions of, 30, 174 
Lcntzburg, 333, 368 
Leon Juda, 371, 435 
Leper, the, 105 
Lera, lower Talley, 469 
Lesa Talley, 104 
Leuk, baths of, 179, 201 ; 
Tillage, 199^ people of, 
insurrection, 203 ; Tal- 
ley of, 205 
Leukerbad,199,201,203-26 
LcTantine Talley, 349 ; 

shepherds of the, 425 
Liddes, Tillage of, 124 
Lido, shore of, 649 
Limmat, 367, 408, 434, 444 
Lindau, 427, 402 



Linnaeus, 22, 411 

Linth, 350, 442, 414, 460 

Lisighau's hamlet, pea- 
sant's house near, 372 

Lisonzo, the, 533 

Little Lake, 24 

LiTenza, the, 532 

Locarno, 592 

Lodi, road, 580 

Locehe, 199 

Lombard dialect, 464» 
— League, 298 

Lombardo Venetian king- 
dom, 460, 523, 679 

Lombards, the court of, 
332, 567, 580 

LombardT, 90 ; plains of, 
100, 17'3, 615, 523, 527, 
539 ; ancient inhabitants 
of, account of, 555, 579, 
581 ; ancient laws of, 
598, 601 ; cro^Tn of, 603 ; 
lakes of, SS2 

Loncino, 567 

Lorenzquella, spring of, 
201 

Lotschen, glacier, 261 

Louis XUL, 462, 490 

— XIV,, 406, 499, 591, 

Louis of BaTaria, 432 

— IV., 442 
Lowertz, lake of, 362, 364, 

366 

Lucerne,canton, 219 ; lake, 
described, 274, 280,299, 
323, 343, 347, 358,; 362, 
366 ; canton, 338 ; ad- 
Toyar of, 340 ; account 
of, 3il, 352, 368; con- 
spiracy, 407 ; canton, 
421, 433, 443, 439 

Lugano, 438 ; lake, 583 ; 
description of, 691 

Lungein \-illage, 296, 298 ; 
lake, 297, 323 

Luther, 371 ; birth of re- 
ferred to, 372 ; on con- 
substantiatiop, 374; por- 
trait of, 405 

Lutherans, 376, 503 

Lutschine, the, 255 ; 
Black, 271, 315 

Lutzeldorf Tillage, 249 

Maccaroni, 622 

Macdonald, 471, 475 ; pas- 
sage of the Spluicn, 478 

Machine for tunnelling, 512 

Macugnaga, 610 

Maggiore, 564 ; lake, 487 

Maira, the, 615 

Maison Dieu, 408 

Maloga pass, 481 

Manfred, 210 ; reputed re- 
sidence of, 242, 252 ; 
quoted, 269 

Mantua, 639, 558; ac- 
count of, 576 ; cathedral 
churches, 578 ; tapestry, 
478 

Marengo, 72 ; battle, 105, 
351, 599, 015; plain, 
134, 187; description of, 
616 

Marengoux, rock.s of, 138 

Marignano, battle of, 500 

Marionette, 623 

Marmots, 163 

Martinsbiiick, 173 



Martigny, 52, 55,53; route 
to, 95; Tillage of, 97, 
148, 173, 177, 121, 179, 
187, 196, 312, 351 

Matter, the. Oil 

Matterhorn, the peaks of, 
205, 212 

Matterthal, Oil 

Maurice, 631 

Maurienne, the, 121; Tal- 
leys, 495 

MauTaison-bridge, 99 

Mediterranean, coast of, 
the, 85, 91, 173 ; islands, 
234 ; the, 319, 460, 486 

Meillerie, heights of, their 
beauty, 31 

Meinau, island of, 417 

Melcthal, 353 ; tale of, 
337, 303 

Mellingen, 368 

Mer de Glace, 58, 61, 85, 
95, 111, 117, 148, 150, 
152, 286, 314 

Mettenburg, 315, 322 

Metz, 379 

Meyenberg, capture of, 368 

Meyenfeld, 462, 470 

Meyringen, Talley of, 252, 
277, 296, 298, 301 

Miage, the, 115,123; gla- 
cier, 119 

Milan, 105, 136, 191, 299, 
467 ; treaty of, 522, 556, 
568, 579, 594; history of, 
595 ; cathedral, 599, 609 

Milan, archbishop, 414 

— dukes of, 36S, 371 

— duchessdowager,40 
Mincio, the, 473, 557, 568, 

576, 578 ; bridge, 678 
Misocco, Talley of, 431 ; 

castle, 480 
Misox, lords of, 480 
Moine, the, 153 
MiJneh Talley, 240, 261 ; 

peaks of, 269, 312, 323 
Jlon^on, 463 
Monotta, Talley, 304 ; 

bridge of, 365, 443 
MnntanTert, 68, 02 ; forest, 

54 ; glacier, 66, 70, 153, 

j\Ionthery, blocks of, 158 

JConstein, Talleys, 469 

Moraines, 11, 149, 266 

Morbcgno, 515 

Morat, battle of, 34 ; lake, 
328, 391 

Morgarten, 303, 463 

Morgue, or cemetery, of 
the hospice, 140 

Mossberg, the, 363 

Mosson, treaty of, 520, 522 

MouUns, 157 

Mountain ranges, 1 ; sce- 
nery, how to enjoy it, 
3 ; character of general 
disposition, 101 

Mulcts, Grand, the, 70, 
76 ; operations in, 79, 93 

Munsterthal, the, 164, 398 

Mythe, mountain, 366 

Nant d'Arpenas, 40 

— Noir, 43 

— d'Orli, 40 
Nairglio, Grande, 594 

— NuoTO, 594 
Needle of Varens, 18 



631 



Napoleon, 31 ; passage of 
St. BLTnaid, 351, 599, 
603, 615. (See also 
Buoaapaite) 

Ncuchatelois, hotel des, 
a day at, 806, 317 

Neuehatel, 30 ; Ijike, 37, 
328 ; views from hill 
of, 88, 91, 158, 293 ; 
rci'ormera of, 371 ; pro- 
vince of, 376, 398, -121, 
427, 503;Talley of, 501, 
508, 510 

Nice, 624 

Nidwalden, 296 

Niesen, mountains of, 226; 
the, 231, 237, 312 

Nisraes, amphitheatre, 559 

Nufeuen, the, 185 

Nyon, town of, 16 

Oberaarhorn, the, 319 

Obergeistellen, 186 

Oberhalbstein, 461, 481 

Oberland, the, 237, 253; 
Talleys of, 2C5, 271,278, 
294; mountains of, 359, 
385, 392 ; ice plains of, 
458; canton of, 463, 4S1, 

CEcolampadius, 371 ; ac- 
count of, 373 

CEscliihiU, 22G 

Qischinen valley, 212, 26S 

Oglio valley, 473, 567 

Ollmont, valley of, 245 

Oltern chapel of, 357 

Orlando, the, 550, 562 

Ormonds, valley of, 374 

Orsiere, valley and village 
of, 95, 124, 148 

Ortler Spitz, 514 

Ossola Domo, d' and Vul 
de, 179, ISO, 187, 195, 
198, 368, 425 

Otho II., 562 

Otill, John, 43 

Ouches, les, 62 

Padua, 532, 567 

I'LCStum, 559, 622 

Palladio, arch of, 
Andrea, 573 

Palvoux, Mont, 120 

Para, chalets de la, 70 

Paradis, Grand, 119 

Paul, emperor, 19 

— III., 530 

— of Venice, 530 

— Veronese, birtliplace 
of, 558, 564 ; painting 
of the " Martyrdom of 
St. Ju,?tina," 674; iiaint- 
ingby, 579, 581; chef- 
d'oeuvre, 618 

Pavia, 570, 594, 598 ; bat- 
tle of, 569 

PaysdeVaud, 2-5, 42, 126, 
326, 341, 387 

Peak of Tempestis, 319 

Pelligrini family, chapel 
of, 564, 600 

Pcllina, Val, 124, 140 

Perte du Rhone, 174 

Pertins, 100 

Perugino, 617 

Pescheera, fortress of, 582 

Pestalozzi, 37 

Pcterel, Mont, 120, 149 

Pfeffers, battle of, 446; 
baths, 447 ; convent of, 
450, 454, 457 



651; 



Petrarch, 674; house of, 

676, 621 
Philip, 631, 609 

— II., 599 

— IV., 620 
Philipson, Arthur, adven- 
ture of, 168 

Piave, the, 532 
Piazza Eeale, 607 

— Virgiliana, 678 
Piedmont, 3, 85, 88, 90 ; 

plains of, 90, 97 ; notice 
of, 101; lowlands of, 105, 
124, 2,36, 245, 611 

Piedmont royal family, se- 
pulchre of' 609 

Piedmontese law of suc- 
cession, 104 

Pietola, village, 679 

Pilatus, Mount, 217, 323, 
354, 363 

Piz Beverin, 45S, 474 
— Val Ehein, 460 

Pisa, 534, 670, 610 

Placentia, 631, 580 

Plateau, the, 83, 92 

Po, 90, 103, 122, 331, 404, 
532, 556, 557, 595, 60S 

Pococke, 47 

— valley, 61 

Polcevera, description, 621 

Ponente, iliviora di, 624 

Pont, village of, 483 

Pont Alter, 489 

Ponte Emilio, 562 

Ponzone, count, 580 

Porazzo, the, 580 

Torlezza, 592 

Porta Nuova, 506 

Portici, inhabitants of, 100 

Porto Franco, 621 

Pourtale's ascent of 
Strathleek, 311 

Praghel, Mont, 443, 445 

Prague, University, 412, 
416 ; archbp., 413, 416 

Priitigau, valley, 45J, 462, 
468, 491 

Pro de Bar, 148 

Pre', Mont de, 148 

Pregalia, people of, 490; 
the, 618 

Pie's, les, 62 

Priory, the, 70, 90 

Priuti's palace, 551 

Pron, plain of, 126 

Protestantism in Sv,fitzer- 
land, 509 ; war against, 
515 

Provence, 90 

Puppets, theatre of, 623 

Pyffer, general, 855 

Uagatz, town of, 446 

Ragione, Palazzo di, or 
de Guistizzia, 675 

Raoul Rochette, 104 

Raphael d'TJrbino, 605 

Rappsrschwyl, capture of, 
422 ; described, 430 ; 
town and castle, 442 

Raron, lord of, castle of, 
369, 421 

Ravenna, 534, 555 ; arch- 
bishop, 668 

Raliberg, the, 227 

Realschulen, 508 

Realt, castle, 455 

Reclus, 121; valley, 122 

Red snow, 113 



Reformation, doctrines of, 
diffused, 19, 372, 378, 

412, 435, 490 ; efforts to 
check, 529 

Rcichenau island, 330, 
441 ; chapter of, 419 

Reichenbach, the, cascade 
of, 277 

Resina, people of, 100 

Reufen glacier, 323 

Rcuss, the, 219, 331, 349, 
351, 368, 408, 422, 459, 
463; 486 

Rhcetia, 326 ; highlands of, 
emancipation of, 319, 
371,419; Jiiglilands and 
valleys, 460 ; leagues, 
461, 465 

Rhretian Alps, 446, 460, 
514 ; language, 468 

Rhfctzuns, lord of, 459,461 

Rheiiithal, the, 421, 423, 
426, 473 

Rheinwald, the, 173, 369 ; 
glacier, 458, 474 

Rhine, the, at Bale, 98 ; 
bridge across, 175, 181, 
219; vaUey, 236, 277, 
303, 333, 347, 366, 369, 
371, 386, 399, 402, 405, 
409, 411 ; monastery on, 

413, 417, 424, 426, 431; 
sources andborders,4 44; 
upper, 446 ; nobles of 
the, 461, 454, 468; val- 
leys, 477-79; bridge, 481 

Rhone, the, 4, IS, 24 ; 
valley of, 27, 31, 34, 58, 
90 ; views of, 97 ; valley, 
101, 105, 121, 149, 158, 
173; glacier of, &c., 174, 
179, 184, 190, 199, 201, 
205, 261, 277; glacier, 
303, 306, 357, 486 
Rialto, bridge, 342, 548 
Richelieu, cardinal, 51'9 
Righi, the, 323, 354 ; as- 
cent of, 358, 360 ; his- 
torical recollections, 3C3, 
366 
Rinderhorn peak, fall, 200 
Riviera, 624 
Rivo Alto, Island, 549 
Roche Blanche, or "White 

Rock, 121 
Rocher des Anglais, 61 
Rochets Rouges, or Red 

Rocks, 84 
Rochette, la, ruins of, 33 
Rochfort, glacier de, 148 
Roderick's Bodcn, 302 
Rodolph, count, 333, 341 
Rodolphe d'Erlach, 342 

— of Hapsburg, 402 

— ofWerdenberg, 426 
Rohan, Prmce, 185 

— Dulte, 521 

Roman Catholicism in 
Switzerland, 609 

Roman Helvetia, 332 

Rosa Monte, 21, 85, 88; 
derivation of the name, 
90, 108, 119, 123, 174, 
184, 20.5, 212, 26.5, .591, 
601, 610 

Rosehach, 423 

Rosenberg, Mcnit, 355 

Rosengarten, 232 

Rosenhorn, the, 322 



Rosenlaui, glacier of, 279, 

Rosier, 234 

Rossberg, the, 358, 302-6 

Rosset, Mont, 42 

Roth, Peter, ascent of 

Jungtrau, 202 
Rott-thal, Col du, 263 
Rougcraont, Adolphe and 

Allred de, 310 
Rousseau, 16, 22; resi- 
dence of, 26, 3 1 ; quoted, 

38, 91, 231 
— island of, 18 
Rousses, Les Grandes, 120 
Ru, Mont, 149 
Rugha, defile, 469 
Ruiter, the, 119; glacier, 

121, 123 
Russians, struggle of the, 

with the French, 350 ; 

proceedings of, 3G4, 445, 

463 
Saane, the, 34 
Saanen, 34 

Sabasinis, Port de, 105 
Sahara, the, 2 
Sala di Consiglio, 566 

— Commcrcio, 566 
Salassii, lOS 

Salats, les chalets des, 46 
Saleve, Grand, IS 
Sallenche, 41, 90; valley, 

15d; falls of, 176 
Salts, peak of, 476 
Samnites, the, 562; S.am- 

mns, village of, 46 
San Apona!, 550 

— Celso, 605 

— Quirico, 621, 623 

— Salvador, 591 
Santa Croce, 579 

— Guistina, 571, 573 

— MariaCarignana,617 

— MariaMaggiore,527; 
church of, 529, 578 

Santa Rosilina, Rosa -A.ga- 
tha C-icherina, COS 

Santa Theresa, church of, 
608 

Saone, heights, 91, 174 

Sardinia, law of, and the 
judges of Chamouni, 33, 
90, 96, 97 

S.-.rgan?, 423, 416, 457,464 

Sarnen, lake of, 316 

Saussure, H. B. da, 21 ; at 
Chamouni, 47 ; q\ioted, 
65, 58, 67 ; ascent of 
Mont Blanc, 43, 68, 91, 
11.3, 146, 152, 226; phi- 
lanthropy of, 424 

Savoy, 4, 24 ; duke of, 
tyranny of, 27, 84 ; cal- 
careous formations of, 
41, 57, 61 ; mountains, 
90 ; valley, 120, 124, 
174 ; pastures of, 287, 
342; duke of, 368; court 
of, 422 ; description, 495 

Savoy, duke, 519 ; palace 
of, 607 

Savoy, lake, 462 

Savoyards, the, 163, 496 

Saxe, Baths, 117; Mou- 
tagnedela, 118, 120,148 

Scaliger, 404 ; birthplace 
of, 558 ; tomb, 565 

Schalfik mountains, 467 



632 



Schachenthal, the, 351, 
445, 478 

Schaffhausen, 332, 371, 
373, 376, 379; account 
of, 408,417; bridge, 431, 
433, 508 

Schaltikthal, 468 

Schams, valley, 369, 458 ; 
lord of, 461, 473 

Schamserthal, the, 481 

Scharla, valley of, 493 

Scheideck, the, 274 

Schmadribach, cascade of, 
260, 266 

Schmadrihorn, glaciers of, 
260 

Schneehorn, the, 473 

SchoUen, valley, 347, 351 

Schonenboden, 372 

SchiJnenbuch, 443 

Schwanan, island, 357 

Schwarbach, the, 205 ; le- 
gend of, 206 

Schwitz, 280, 3.33, 338, 343 ; 
independence of, 344, 
352, 355, 364, 366, 370, 
387, 389, 420; threat- 
ened, 422, 426, 433; peo- 
ple of, 442,444, 463,508, 
511 

Scclungen, chapter of, 419; 
abbey, 442 

Sedrun, village of, 459 

Seez, 42 ; plain of, 121 ; 
valley, 455 

Seigne, Col de la, 42, 149 

Sempach, lake of, 338, 354; 
battle of, 341 

Senebiers, 395 

Sentis, 372, 425 ; storm 
on, 475 

Septimer pass, 332, 431 

Se'randa, bridge over, 481 

Seruft, village of, 246, 352 

Serrant, Pont, 121 

Serreire, 138 ; vicar of, 
377, 381 

Sertig valley, 469 

Servoz, road to, 42, 46, 72; 
valley and village of, 42 

Shepherds of the Swiss 
cantons and Tyrol, 213, 
216 

Sherwill, capt., 69 ; de- 
scent from Mt. Blanc, 92 

Sheydeck,the,64,312,325 

Shreckhorn, or Peak of 
Terror, the, 64, 88, 270, 
277, 311, 313, 319, 323, 

Siders, the, 369 
Sierre, 184, 195, 199 
Sighs, bridge of, 546 
Sigismund, 376 ; his seat, 
416 

— duke, 417 

— archduke, 527 
Sihl, the, 366, 434 
Silberhorn, the, 269, 359 
Silva Plana, village, 481 
Simmen, the, 31, 227 
Simmenthal, the, 15, 34, 
t 227, 231, 294 
Simplon road, the, 31, 44, 

95, 136, 184, 611 ; hos- 
pice of, 187, 194 ; pass, 
avpinter in, 193 ; village 
of, 198, 368, 425, 463, 
479 ; glacier, 591 



Simon, Pierre, 58 

Sion, 179, 199, 226 ; chap- 
ter, 369 ; bishop, 464 

Sissigen, village of, 316 

Sitten, 179 

Sitter, the, 417, 425, 427 

Sixt, valley of, 46 

Smith, Albert, 69, 79, as- 
cent of Mont Blanc, 86, 
259 

Soda, Val, 591 

Solari, the, 605 

Soleure, 341, 367, 369, 388, 
390 ; canton, description 
of, 406, 433, 511 

Solothurn, 4 ; canton, 406 

Sondrio Protestant School, 
515, 518, 523; Delcgu- 
zione de, 523 

Sospiri, Ponte di, 544 

Spajlg, torrent of, 490 

Speicher, 426 

Spezia, la, gulf of, 624 

Spietz village, 226 

Splugen road, 446, 460, 
582; village, 458, 481 ; 
pass, 471, 515 

St. Augustine, order of, 
127; church, 581 ; chapel 
■where baptized, 605 

St. Barnabas, 573 

St. Bernard, Great, 90, 
104 ; wines of, 105, 107, 
113,115, 121, 123 ; route 
to the hospice, 124 ; 
hospice of, 126; monks 
of, 127, 141 : church of, 
132 ; adventures on, 140, 
moonlight, descent of, 
142, 148, 179, 186, 195, 
471,478 

St. Bernard, Little, 105, 
119; hospieeon, 121,186 

St. Bernardino, 564 

St. Branchiex, 124 

St. Bridget, 379 

St. Cergues, 16 

St. Denis, 564 

St. Dionigi, 595 

St. Eastongio, 605 

St. Egida, 578 

St. Fermo, church of, 564 

St. GaU, hermits of, 371, 
379, 417 ; abbey of, 426, 
434; library of, 435, 
460, 500 

St. Gallus, 502 

St. Germans, 105, 122 

St. George, gate of, 564 

St. Gervais, valley of, 42 ; 
ashes of, 602 

St. Gingo, 31 

St. Giorgio, church of, 564 

St. Gothard, 90, 174, 187, 
222, 227 ; (Great), road 
of, 299 ; pass of, 332, 346, 
351, 364, 368 ; minerals 
from, 394 ; account of, 
423, 425, 444, 459, 463, 
474, 557 

St. Gregory, martyrdom 
of, 524 

St. Jean de Pertus, natives 
of, 150 

St. John, church of, 409 

St. Julian's, 135 

St. Justus, monastery of, 
531 

St. Leo, 582 



St. Leodegar, 406 

St. Lorenzo, colonnade 
of, 599 

St. Marc, dominions of, 
542, 544 ; piazza di, 551 

St. Mark, winged lion of, 
523 ; grand square of, 
546; church of, 548, 
550, 604 ; palace of, 570 

St. Martin, 44, 64, 103, 
108, 374 

St. Maurice, 131, 158 ; 
bridge over the, 175, 177 

St. Mauritz, 481 

St. Mechel, lake of, 43 

St. Michael, chapel of, 60S 

St. Nicholas, 116 ; village, 
611 

St. Nierdes, prayer of, 550 

St. Pierre, island of, 38 ; 
viUage, 124, 127, 132, 
136 

St. Pierre's Pierri, 130 

St. Rocco, 549 

St. Reni, 130 

St. Sebastian, 578 

St. Theodore, statue of, 544 

St. Urs, chapter of, 406 

St. Vincent, 105 ; church 
of, 342 

St. WilUam, 376 

St. Zeus, 662 

Stalla, or Bivio, 481 

Stantz, fountain, 341, 363 ; 
church, 364 ; congress 
at, 406 

Statz, Col de, 469 

Staubbach, the, cascade of, 
255 ; grotto of, 257 ; in- 
teresting phenomena, 
259, 270 

Steinberg, mountain, 266 ; 
castle, 493 

Steinboch, the, 325 

Stelvio Pass, 514 

Stenenberg, 358 

Stilicho, 602 

Stoekhorn, the, 220 ; as- 
cent of, 230, 312 

Stoss, the, 426 

Strada Balbi, 618 

— MOitaria 

— Nuova, 018 ; pa- 
lace in, 619 

Strathleck, the, 318 

Stranch, Col, 185 

Strela, 468 ; Col de, 469 

Suabia, hills of, 173 ; dukes 
of, 331; war, 370; towns, 
420, 431, 444, 463, 494, 
510 ; famOy of, 556 

Sursee, diet of, 367 ; cap- 
ture of, 368 

Swiss, the, description of, 
14 ; cattle, 283 ; mower, 
286 ; early history of, 
336; guards, monuments 
to, 355 ; republicans, 367; 
allies, 420, 425, 495 

Switzerland, physical fea- 
tures of, 4, 144, 173 ; 
valeof,90,97, 104; trees 
of, 212, 234; pastures 
of, 287 ; trade with Italy, 
354 ; geographical cha- 
racteristiQS ; reformers 
in, 371 ; civil war, 377 ; 
religious war in, 421 ; 
misery in, 444, 474, 495 



Suss, the, 491 
Susten valley and pass, 299 
Suze, the valley of, 398 
Tacarigua, lake, 223 
Taconnaz, glacier of, 46, 83 
Tacul, glacier du, 62 
Talifee, glacier du, 62 
Tambo glacier, 473 
Tamina, the, bridge over, 

447, 450, 453, 457 
Tanaro, the, 615 
Tapia, valley of, 67 
Tavcntaise, the, 42, 44, 90, 

121, 123, 495 
Tarentasia, 496 
Tchingel glacier, 266 ; 

Sehritt, 267 
Tchittram, 134 
Te, the, palace of, 578 
Teglio, 518 
Telamon, 294 
Tell, AVilhelm, 91 ; chapel 

of, 209 ; drama of, 280 ; 

compatriots of, 290 ; 

well-known adventure 

of, 336, 342, 345 ; tower 

of, birthplace, death, 

347 ; pictures relating 

to, 391 
Tellensprung, the, 345 
Tempesta, the painter, ac- 
count of, 590 
Tende, Col de, 90 ; pass 

of, 479 
Tessin, 174 ; disaster at, 

481, 592 
Tessino, the, 134, 185, 347 
Tete Noire, the, 95, hotel 

of, 96, 179 
Teufelsberg, the, 347, 349 
Thermae, the, source of, 451 
Thiel, the, 37 
Thorwaldgen, 355 
Thuanus, 431 
Thun, lake, 226, 231, 242, 

251, 262, 274 ; town, 

231, 236, 243, 275, 277, 

312, 383, 391; military 

school, 394 
Thur valley, 417, 421, 425 
Thurgau, 386 ; described, 

417, 423, 425; nobles, 

427; capitalof, 431, 434, 

463 
Tioino, canton, 418, 434, 

460, 506, 692, 595 
Ticino, the, its source, 557 
Tintoretto, 549, 589 
Tiraboschi, 581 
Titian — " Assumption," 

562 ; Madonna, 574 ; 

Doge of Venice, 575, 

581 ; " Christ bearing 

his Cross," 018 
Tivo, grotto at, 88 
Tocken, 370 
Tockenburg, count, 370, 

372, 470 ; country, 421 ; 

regency, 423 
Tockenburgers, 421 
Tormo, promontory of, 584 
Tornavento, 584 
Toro, 616 

Torral, mont, bridge, 473 
Torriani, th", 598 
Tortona, 134 
Tosenhorn, the, 323 
Toss valley, 417 
Tour, la, 52 



Tours, Col de, 16-i 

Tourmente, 139, 104, 196 

Tournon, 174 

Tourtemagne, cascade, 184 

Trasp, Tillage of, 493 

Treille, promenade, 18 

Tremola, Ponte, 348 

Trent, 473, 479, 527 ; coun- 
cU of, 527, 582 

Trimmelbach, cascade, 260 

Trient, val and glacier du, 
96, 179 

Triolef, glacier de, 148 

Triwitzio, 480 

Trogen, 420 

Trons, yHlage of, 459, 461, 
covenants of, 462 

Trou Perdu, 455 

Troy, 294 

Trude, 20S 

Turin, 91, 104 ; descrip- 
tion of, 608, 615 

Tuscany, mountains, 86 

Tusis, 462, 473 

Tyrol, the, 173 ; pastui-es 
of, 287, 370, 396, 427, 
460,460; southern, 471; 
fortress, &e., 473, 487, 
494, 514 ; proTinoe of, 
527 

Tyrolese mountains, 424 ; 
character, 531 

Universities of Switzer- 
land, 508 

Unspunnen Castle, ruin 
of, 242 

Unteraar, glacier of, 306 

TJntersce, 409 ; or Zeller- 
see, 411 

Unterseen, lake of, 226, 
238, 243 

Unterwald, 222, 338 ; in- 
dependence of, 344, 363 

tJnterwalden, 294, 296, 
334, 340, 352, 355, 368, 
383, 407 ; peasants, 425, 
432, 443, 464, 508 

TJri, 174, 334, 338 ; inde- 
pendence of, 344, 346, 
351, 367, 383 ; peasants, 
425, 432, 443, 460, 463 ; 
disaster to, 481, 508 

Urnerloch, the, 347 ; pas- 
sage of. 351 



XJrseren, valley of 222, 
347, 425, 459 

Vaehes, Kanz des, 280 

Vale, Pra de la, 570 

Valais, the, 24, 61, 115, 
127, 173 ; valley of, 175, 
178, 185, 190 ; ecclesi- 
astical condition, 192 : 
people of, 204, 226, 245 ; 
climateof, 249, 255,261, 
303 ; dulce of, 368 ; in- 
surrection in, 369, 383, 
388, 421 ; upper, people 
of, &c., 463 ; Haut, 466; 
disaster, 481, 50'8, 511-93 

Valaisans, the brave, 98, 
178 ; perils of, 272 ; 
commerce of, 302,463-8 

Valence, 174 

Valeggio, 579 

Valentinian, 402 

Valentz, 446 

Valesia, 104 

Valese fair, 425 

Valois church, 379 

Valorsine, the mountains 
of, 58 

Valteline, the, 119 ; people 
of, &c., 462, 466, 487, 
492, 512, 518, 523, 5S0-2 

Varen, village of, 199 

Varges, 530 

Vaud, canton of, 26, 174, 
178, 383, 418 ; council, 
434, 463, 504, 508 

Vaudois, the, 388, 390, 
498, 610 

Vazerol, village of, 370 

Vecchio, Ponte del, 562 

Velan, Mont, 90, 115 ; gla- 
ciers, 124, 127, 148 

Veldes, Monte, 126 

Venetia, name and pro- 
vince of, 533 ; ancient 
capital of, 567 

Venetians, the, 534 

Venetz, M., his plan for 
lowering the Dranse 
lake, 98 

Venice, gulf of, 90 ; city 
of, 38C, 467, 486, 514; 
three gondoliers, 515, 
519, 523, 532, 581; de- 
cline of, 6 1 7 



Venezuela, 223 

Veni, Val, the, 115, 148 

Vermicelli, 622 

Verona, 558, 567, 570 

Verrex, 105 

Vevay, town of, 26, 179, 

377, 388 
Via Mala, the, described, 

455, 473 
Vicenza, 567 ; Hall of Jus- 
tice at, 575 
Viege, or Visp, village, 184 
Vier Waldstatten see, 344 
Viesch, vUlage of, 186, 26 L 
Viescher glacier, 186, 261 
Viesoherhorn ridge, 261, 

312, 319, 323 
Vignerons, I'Abbaye des, 

26 ; la fete des, 26 
VUla lake, 586 
Villach, 531 
Villa Medici, 578 
Villars, plain of, 122 
ViUeneuve, 24, 27, 31, 

174, 227 
Viop, the, 184 
Viret, 376, 379 
Virgin mountains, the, 269 
Visaille, la, chalets of, 149 
Viso, Monte, 90, 108, 119 
Vitruvius, birthplace of, 

558, 561, 570 
Vogelberg, 458 
Vogherd, the, 134 
Voh-ons, the, 33 
Voralberg, pastures, 287 ; 

mountains of, 412, 460 
Vorder Rhein, 458 
Wald Emme, 352 
Waldshut, 219, 277 
Waldstatten sea or lake, 

336, 443 
Waldstatten, the, 331 ; 

anathema against, 334 ; 

people of, 335, 342, 352, 

371, 387; lakes, 390; 

army, 422, 425, 442, 479 ; 

description of, 497 
Wallenstadt, lake, 332, 

427,439; villagers, 441, 

446 
Weissenstein, the, 407 
Welden, 90 
Wellhorn, the, 323 



Werner, 342 

Werni, 160 

Wesen, 390 ; villagers, 441 

Wetterhorn, the, 269, 274 ; 
ascent of, 319 ; descent 
of, 324, 392 

Wiokassowich, 473 

Wiggis, 442 

Wimmis, gorge of, 34, 227 

Windonissa, city of, 331 

Winkelfluch, the, 251 

Winkelreid, 340; chapel 
364 

Winsperg, 373 

Wischard, 203 

Weissenstein, lake of, 482 

Wittner, tJlrick, 262 

Wolfshaddle, 427 

Wood- felling, its eifects on 
climate, &c., 222 

Woodley, Mr., ascent of 
Mont Blanc, 69 

Wukassowich, 479 

Wurmser-lock, the, 5 14 

Wyl, town of, 421 

Wyndham, 47, 61 

Wyttenbach, Dr., 377 

Yverdun, the, 87 

Zach, 135 

Zellweger, 439 

ZUlis, 458 

Zcesenberg, the, 314 

Zoifingen, 367 

Zug, 274, 352, 355 ; people 
364, 360, 368 ; invasion 
of, 422 ; lake, 365 

Zurich, 246, 260, 326, 331, 
338,351,365; diet, 369 ; 
war with, 370 ; senate, 
373 ; Reformation in, 
376; -war, 377, 387,411, 
417, 419 ; and the Re- 
formation, 421 ; account 
of, 423 ; siege of, 442, 
444, 460, 462 ; lake, 365, 
372, 427, 431, 499, 508 ; 
troops, 519 

Zuricher,=, the, 368 ; de- 
feat of, 370; invade Zug, 
&e., 422, 442 

Zutz, 488 

Zwingle, account of, 371; 
death of, 377, 394 ; ac- 
count of, 435 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Map of the Alps, SwitzerliinO, 

Savoy, Piedmont, &c. to face Title 
Snow-clad Eminences ... 5 

Alpine Landscape S 

Frozen Cascade of Giessbach 9 

The Avalanche 13 

Geneva — View from the Lake 16 
Portraits of Beza, Calvin, and 

Agrippa d'Aubigne ... 19 

Arras of Geneva, and Cathedral 

of Geneva 20 

Island of Kousseau ... ... 21 

Portraits of De Candolle, De 

Sau3S\\re, and Bonnet ... 22 
Portraits of Madame De Stael, 

Ivuusseau, and Sismondi ... 23 

The Lake of Geneva 24 

The Castle of Chiilon ... 25 

The Castle of Chiilon " ... 23 
Byron's Hotel, and Port du 
. Sex, near Villeneiive ... 29 

Boveret, near Villeiieuve — 

MeUlerie 32 

Pvuins of Les AUinges — Bons 33 

The Peak of Sales 36 

The Piz and the Col d' Auterne 37 

La Eochette 40 

Tower of Langin 41 

The Bridge of Aigle — The 

Bridge of Wimmis 44 

Boltigen 45 

Suspension B ridge at Prey burg 

—Island of St. Peter, Lalie 

of Bienne 48 

Tlie Valley of Chamouni ... 49 
Chamouni — Char-a-Banc ... 52 
Tourists and Guides— Cascade 

desPelerms 53 

Grotto of Balme-Intcrior ... 56 
Mont Blanc, from the Brevent 57 
Mer de Glace and Montanvert 60 
Mont Blanc and the Village of 

Chamouni 65 

Climbing a Wall of Ice ... 73 

The Grands Mulcts 77 

Snow Bridge, Grand Plateau 81 

MurdelaCote 89 

View from the Forclaz ... 96 

Valley of Aosta — Hannibal's 

Gate andllocks 102 

Verrcx 103 

The Tower of the Leper 106, 107 

Triumphal Arch 110 

The Dora at Chatillon— Lake 

Combal Ill 

Col delaSeigne 113 

Great St. Bernard Pass— two 

The Dogs of St. Bernard ... 129 

Tomb of Desaix 131 

Transportation of the Remains 

X 137 

^^ used 139 

GliREPin the Valley of the 
. Rhone ... ... ... 145 

Lower Extremity of the Gla- 
cier of Zermatt 156 

The Goatherd 161 

The Lynx 164 

The Chamois Hunters ... 165 

The Eagle 163 

The Lammergeyer 169 



Bridge at St. Maurice ... 170 

Church in the Valais — Last 
village before arriving at the 
Palls of the Salc-n die ... 177 
Castle of Sion— Chapel above 1 SO 

The Angel's Stone ISl 

Church at Visp — Church at 

Tourtemagne 184 

Zigzag Road between Biieg 

and Lax 185 

Pass of the Sirnplon ISS 

The Sirnplon, between Isella 

and Gondo 189 

The Sirnplon — Upper Gallery 

of the Sirnplon 191 

Pass of the Gemmi 204 

Swiss Cottage 212 

Wood-cutting in the Forests 

of the Alps 221 

Machinery for removing Tim- 
ber 224 

Swiss Chalet— Castle of Spielz 225 

Wimmis 228 

The Cemetery of Erlenbach... 229 
Fruit-gathering in Switzerland 233 

Interlachen 211 

Cascade of Giessbach ... 252 

Rocks of Winkclfluch ...253 

The Jungfrau, and the Valley 

of Lauterbrunnea 256 

The Wetterhorn 272 

• The Valley of Grindelwald ... 273 

Valley of Meyringen^ 277 

Pastures of the,Valley of Mcy- 

ringen .'. 280 

The Return of the Herds ... 281 

The Swiss Mower 284 

Th_e Swiss Cheese-maker ... 2S5 
A Flax-scutcher of the Bernese 

Oberland 238 

Swiss Needlework 2S9 

The Bnmig Pass 296 

Lake Limgern , 297 

Pass of the Ermiig 300 

Singular Rock in the Grimsel 

Pass ., 301 

Beyond Gutanen — Bridge 

beyond Ilandek 304 

Hospice of the Grimsel — Gla- 
cier of the Rhone 305 

The XJnteraar Glacier, and the 

" Hotel des Neuchatelois " SOS 
Descendinga Mo'antain ...316 
Tell in the Market-place of 

Altdorf 321 

The Bear Hunt 329 

Castle of Cellenbourg ... 333 

Battle of Sempach 340 

House of Gessler 344 

The Lake of Sarnen 345 

Road in the St. Gothard Pass 
Hospice of the St. Goth- 



ard Pass 
Zig-zag road in the same 
View near Lucerne ... 
The Lake of Lucerne... 
Market at Lucerne ... 
Chapel of the Righi ... 
Summit of the Righi ... 

LakeofZug 

Chapel near- Schwitz ... 
The City of Bsrne ... 



348 
.. 349 



The Return of the Swiss Sol- 
dier ;.. 393 

Crvpt of the Cathedral of Bale 400 
The Falls of Schaffhausen ... 401 
Return from the Wedding ... 429 
Lakein theKliJnthal... - ... 4-11 
Entrance of the Via Mala ... 4 18 

The Via Mala 419 

Interior of the Via Mala ... 452 
Interior of the Via Mala ... 453 
View near Reiclienau — Lake 

oftheOberAlp 456* 

Lake of the Ober Alp ... 457 

Bernardino Pass — Valley of 

Misocco 472 

Pass of the Splugen 473 

Rock with Inscrip;ion respect- 
ing the Inundations ... 476 
The Castle of Misocco ... 477 
Pillars on Mont Julier ... 484 
Teuful Castle, Julier Pass ... 485 

The Bernina Pass 4SS 

Lake of the Bernina 489 

Valley of Silva Plana, on the 
summit of the Engadine ... 492 

The Rialto 513 

The Stelvio Pass, near Bormio 

— Galleries in the same ... 51G 
The Stelvio Pass— Summit of 
the Stelvio, and the Ortler 

Spitz 517 

The Stelvio Pass— Borders of 

Tyrol 520 

TheValteline 521 

Valley of Bolzen 524 

Valsugana, near Trent ... 525 

Trent 52S 

Above Trent, Course of the 

Adige 529 

Venice 633 

Grand Canal of Venice — La 

Cadova Palace 536 

Grand Canal of Venice — The 

Pisani Palace 537 

Canal at Venice 540 

Canal by Moonligjit 541 

Low Country of Fusina ... 545 
Pallazzolo, near Brexia ... 548 

Scene near Venice 553 

Schlanders in the Tyrol ... 557 
Amphitheatre of Verona ... bOO 

Valley of the Adige 501 

Entrance of the Valley of the 

Brenta 568 

Gorges of the Brenta . ...500 

Country near Padua 573 

The City of Padua 577 

Lake Gai-da 580 

The Descent on Como — Lake 

of Como 584 

Fariolo — Lake Maggiore — 

Islands 5S5 

Isola Madre — Lake Maggiore 5SS 

Lugano 5S9 

Lecco — Bellagio — Lake of 

Como, Splugen Road ...592- 
Gate of Como — Descent on 

Magadino 593 

The Cathedral of Milan ...597 

Scene near Ivrea 612 

Sondrino, on the road from 
Ivrea to VerceU 613 



•2 56 



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